Tag: Panic Attack

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2016: Same Old, Same Old

How is it almost February?

I spent January working my ass off and being sick, so I’ve lost all concept of time. I started a 4th and 5th job, so my schedule is ridiculous. Honestly, if I didn’t have a multi-device syncing calendar I’d be completely screwed. And it’s not like I’m working an excessive number of hours (40-50 a week, on average), but being all over the place at all different times of the day is making me scatterbrained. I’ve turned into a complete flake, and it’s really starting to get to me!

(In a spontaneous act of crazy, needing to feel like I had some sort of control, I got a pair of scissors and chopped off all my hair. Thank you to Saira for being my inspiration there! Heh.)

It’s also not helping that my anxiety is getting bad. And the irony is that the source of anxiety is that (1) I’m beyond paranoid that I’m going to have a panic attack at work, and (2) I lose my prescription benefits at the end of this month.

A big issue for me in early 2015 was that I stopped sleeping regularly due to nocturnal panic episodes, caused my dreams (typically the traditional teeth falling out dream). They went away last spring, but returned in the last few weeks. Recently it’s the same dream over and over: I’m at work (my retail job, which I’ve been at since October and quite like) and am constantly getting into trouble because I’m doing everything wrong. As the dream goes on coworkers start coming up to me and telling me how incompetent I am and that management is furious. Eventually in the dream I have a panic attack, am yelled at by a manager, and fired. And then I wake up in a panic attack (hyperventilating, crying, nose bleed, all that fun stuff). I’ve had this same dream, and same panic episode, the last 3 nights in a row. UGH.

As for the benefits, I don’t even know what to do. I can’t afford my auto-immune meds AND my anxiety meds. So I weighed the option of taking one vs the other. If I stop the anxiety meds I’ll probably relapse into my anxiety-ridden self, but if I stop my auto-immune meds I could potentially die, so… I voted for anxiety meds! But I went to my doctor this morning and asked about weening off the meds to which I received the most incredulous look of all time. “You have an incredibly severe anxiety disorder. You can not go off medication.” OKAY, OKAY.

So, I now need to figure out how to pay the $500/month for meds. I keep getting denied for private insurance, so I might try Trillium again. I’ve been denied twice, but maybe third time’s the charm. Everyone please cross all fingers and toes. Thx.

Hmm, what else? I was supposed to start the 3rd semester of my out-patient anxiety program yesterday, but being a sleep deprived flake, I missed the first session. So I need to make sure that I sort that out and don’t get myself kicked out of the program. And today I finally made appointments with my counsellor and occupational therapist. They’re both going to shout at me for taking more jobs…

The last time I saw either of them I had just taken on a second one, and neither were impressed. But I think I needed to do it, and I’m happy I did. I realized the only reason I wasn’t was because I had convinced myself I couldn’t. But it turns out I could! I’m not completely incompetent!

Well, not outside of my anxiety dreams, at least.

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Shrinking World

After months of fighting, begging, and waiting I have finally started an OHIP covered treatment program for all the anxiety/panic issues I’ve been dealing with. The next few months are going to be rough, but I’ll be working with a team from a few different outpatient clinics and health centres in the area. Last week I met with a psychiatrist and a social worker (separate services) for assessment, and both agreed to continue working with me. OHIP only covers a handful of sessions with each, but I’m hopeful that even the short time will be of help. They’ve both also mentioned options for services following their own, ones that they can get me into – therapy, panic support counselling, anxiety wellness group. I finally feel like I’ve been able to gain access to this seemingly impenetrable system after 8 long years.

The timing of this is equally perfect and horrible. You see, for as long as I’ve been dealing with these issues, I’ve never had my world shrink down to it’s current extreme. My anxiety may have been bad in the past, but school and work and life always forced me to keep my bubble large and rather elasticized. There was always the occasional bad day where I just couldn’t, but most of the time I’d take a deep breath and step out into the world. If need be I’d go out to my car or into a stairwell to have a panic attack or cry or shout in frustration. But, I was still out there, moving, interacting.

But I don’t have that anymore. I don’t have school or work or life. In the spring my bubble was the whole of central London. In the summer it was the spaces (and walking route between) home and work. Now it’s shrunk to the second floor of the house. The world outside the bubble feels dangerous, filled with unpredictability and discomfort. Everything has the potential to set me off, to make me lose myself in a space that is not safe, and that’s terrifying.

I wasn’t familiar with the idea of the shrinking world until recently (at least not consciously), but it’s a shift I began to notice over the past year. Those who know me know I love to travel, and would go just about anywhere in a heartbeat. But in spring 2014 I had a flight booked and entire trip planned to Oslo, but on the day of departure I couldn’t get on the plane. I was terrified and I didn’t know why, so I spent days/weeks beating myself up for such an irrational decision to not go. I mean, really? I’ve been to 15 countries, half of those travelling solo. I’ve had so much shit thrown at me while travelling (figuratively and literally, as some of you may remember!) that I know I’m fully capable of dealing with many worst case scenarios. And yet…

I’d hoped it was a one off, but then in November when I was meant to go to New York I once again panicked. I sent a text to a close friend stating “I can’t go to New York. I just don’t think I should go.” and when she asked “How come?”, I replied “I’m terrified.” Truthfully, the only reason I did end up going was because of an argument at home and the resulting fear of staying and dealing with the ramifications of that outweighed my fear of going on the trip.

That trip was two months ago now, and since returned home my bubble has snapped back in around me. I don’t leave the house for days on end (a week in a few instances), and when I do, I don’t venture far. And because of this, every time I go out, it’s more difficult than the last time.

After my appointment with the psychiatrist last week I was so utterly frustrated with myself and how bad this has gotten that I got in the car and drove to Toronto, where I got out for about 15 minutes before driving back home. I then had a massive panic attack, of course, but two steps forward, one step back is better than the reverse. The leap without looking approach has always been my go-to in the past, and has served me well. I mean just over a year ago I went for a one week holiday to the UK, but decided to skip my flight home and stay for 10 months instead. Unfortunately I’m not in a position to leap right now. I have no money, no job prospects, and no where to go. I’ve been incredibly fortunate in the past to have people who took me in while I got back on my feet after a massive leap, but I don’t think such an option exists this time round. Plus, shouldn’t there be a point where I can do it all on my own?

I must also admit that one of the worst things about the bubble is that it doesn’t limit me to the space itself (though that does indeed suck), but it limits my interactions with people outside of the bubble. I can’t talk to people anymore. Partially because I don’t know what to say, and partially because I’m embarrassed about being a narcissistic, scatter brained mess (and who on earth wants to have anything to do with that?). It’s easier just to not talk to people. Their lives are going so well, and the last thing I want to do it be some kind of damper in that.

Anyway. The social worker has given me some mundane tasks to accomplish (leave the house twice a day, even if only to do a quick walk around the block), cook a proper meal (apparently eating cereal for dinner every night isn’t great?), and get in contact with some people she suggested. I’ve yet to technically accomplish any of these things since our appointment on Wednesday, and I feel beyond pathetic about it. But tomorrow’s a new day and all that.

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Explaining Panic: An Open Letter

I’ve become accustomed to explaining (or attempting to explain) anxiety and panic disorder to people. Seriously, I should just print out little cards with the CMHA blurb written on them and pull it out whenever I meet someone new.

“Hi, I’m Spencer. Are you familiar with panic disorder? Here’s a leaflet…

What is panic disorder?

Panic disorder involves repeated and unexpected panic attacks. A panic attack is a feeling of intense fear or terror that lasts for a short period of time. It involves physical sensations like a racing heart, shortness of breath, chest pain, dizziness, shaking, sweating or nausea. Some people feel like they’re having a heart attack or suffocating, others fear that they are dying.

Panic attacks can be a normal reaction to a stressful situation or a part of another mental illness. With panic disorder, panic attacks seem to happen for no reason. People who experience panic disorder fear more panic attacks and may worry that something bad will happen as a result of the panic attack.

Got it? Awesome. Please keep it in mind in the future! Oh, and nice to meet you!”

Now, of course it’s never that straightforward and simple, but I’ve made a point over the last 5 years or so to not shy away from talking to people about it. Chances are that if we have even casual contact with once another you’re going to see me having an attack eventually.

Unfortunately, every once in awhile I reach a place of thinking ‘what’s the point?’

Especially knowing from experience that such a definition is meaningless to most people. Because in spite of a diagnosis from a doctor and the above explanation, I still find myself stuck in regular conversations where I’m told things like “for god sake stop it, you’re an adult!” or “just get over it” or “try harder” etc, etc, etc.

I understand that the people around me are frustrated, I really do. But saying things like that on regular basis do nothing whatsoever to help. In fact, not surprisingly, they hinder. Do you not realize that whatever frustration you’re feeling, I’m feeling tenfold? Honestly, you think it sucks being around me for an hour or two- Try living inside my head. It’s a nightmare. And, bonus, after a short period of time in my company you get to leave. I don’t.

And this is every single day for me. I have panic attacks for little to no reason on a daily basis, meaning that on a daily basis my body freaks the fuck out when my brains sends a ‘you’re going to die‘ red alert signal. My blood pressure skyrockets, my nose bleeds, it feels like someone is standing on my chest, and I can’t stop crying. This has become my life. Do you honestly think I’m not beyond infuriated with it? Do you not think that’s why I’ve been going to doctor after doctor, trying medication after medication for years? Did it ever occur to you the lengths I’ve gone to find relief from this? The things I’ve done that I would never even utter on this blog, but done nonetheless because at the time they’re all that worked?

I’m sorry that me and my imbalanced brain are an occasional annoyance to you. But this is my (often unbearable) reality. I can’t even escape it when I sleep! Did you know I wake up sweating, nose bleeding, and crying from dream-induced attacks on a regular basis? Plus the panic/anxiety is often worsened by other factors like depression and PMS. Please don’t even ask me what the trifecta looks like… I’ve only just worked up the nerve to talk to my doctor about that one!

Anyway, the point being: I know I’m a lot to take and if you need to bow out, I understand. You won’t be the first and you certainly won’t be the last. But for everyone else- the family and ‘you’re stuck with me forever’ friends- please don’t be too harsh. All of that frustration and anger you’re feeling towards me, know that I’m feeling it towards myself too. Spending too long with me, does not a good relationship make. Small doses, all that. It’s the reason I try and keep a lot of space between visits. It’s the reason I try not to stay in one place for too long. It’s the reason I generally stick solo.

I’m sure that sounds fairly sad and pathetic to most, but it’s how I roll. I’ve always done my own thing, in my own time, and have been fortunate enough in life to find some people who get that. And the rest, well, I vent to them in passive-aggressive blogs that they’ll probably never read.

IMG_8524One day I’ll know this to be true.

 

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Ouch

I’ve been at my new job for a week now. The actual work is pretty mundane, but the people are nice and the backdrop is gorgeous, so it’s been pretty good. Plus, getting out into the world on a regular basis has helped ease that rut I was in (who knew? /sarcasm). Unfortunately being able to leave the update there just isn’t my brand of luck.

I mentioned a couple of months ago that I was getting sick, but was so happy when I somehow managed to have a positive turn around in August. That laceration in my gut, which has been the bane of my existence since around February, was finally starting to heal on it’s own. Thank Thor! Sadly, after a month problem-free, it tore open again this past weekend and is bleeding more than ever before.

I’m not sure if the tearing is work-related, coincidental, or what. Regardless, it hurts and is making me feel terrible. And on top of that I’ve now gotten myself completely stressed out worrying about it. I ended up having a panic attack at work today, which aside from being beyond embarrassing, makes me look completely incompetent. It’s not easy to explain to someone who’s not familiar with anxiety that an attack isn’t necessarily related to what’s happening in the moment. The job is not stressful or anxiety-inducing, which I tried to say today, but ever since that incident at the Natural History Museum I’m paranoid. And that isn’t helping the stress either.

I have an appointment with the gastrointestinal surgeon in 2 weeks, so fingers crossed for some good news there. I’m not thrilled at the prospect of surgery, but it definitely beats the alternative.

For the moment I just need to focus on not freaking out about going to work tomorrow because I’m mortified about what happened today.

Beer me strength…

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Abandoned tram system in the woods at work

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No Help, No Hope

I’m glad there’s been a lot of talk this past week about the state of mental health services. The reason it was brought to the front page is beyond horrific, but maybe some change will come out of this terrible tragedy. And it’s not just the United States who are guilty of such deplorable services- It’s everywhere. After the week/month/year I’ve had I think I’m qualified to make this assertion.

Continue reading “No Help, No Hope”

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The Seatbelt Sign Is Now Turned Off

I think this blog is long overdue. As some of you may know I had an… eventful week. For everyone who sent me messages and texts and emails, thank you. And to those same people, I’m also very sorry! There’s a good chance I didn’t reply to you and I feel awful, but it’s been a tad hellish and I’ve fallen horribly behind on everything…

To catch everyone up on my week:

Sunday – Okay. Went to work. It was really busy, but good. I met a lot of nice people and got to people watch and explore a bit, so it was overall an okay kind of day.

Monday – Slightly less okay. I was homesick. I was off work that day, and it was uneventful, but I think left me with too much time to think!

Tuesday – Day.From.Hell. I mean, seriously. The day that wouldn’t end. I woke up in the morning and was feeling a bit off, and a bit panicked. Nothing too unusual about that. By the time I got showered and dressed and out the door I was at a moderate level of panic. And by the time I got the bus I was starting to lose it. I was on my way to work and just kept trying to breathe through it. It was working, for awhile. I sat on the tube for half an hour with my eyes closed just trying to stay calm. And then I stepped out at South Kensington and in to the museum and was surround by thousands of people. Still holding it in though! Not well, but enough! I got to the employee area and my manager, who I have now learned is an expert at detecting panic attacks, immediately approached me to see if I was okay. Very quickly I was not.

First Aid is called, and I’m sent home. So, after taking an hour of so to get myself together I get back on the train. Only, it turns out I hadn’t actually calmed down all that much. The panic attack hit me like a ton of bricks. I’m on the Picaddilly line, unable to breathe, surrounded my people, my face gets hot, and the bleeding from the face starts. Heavy and everywhere. The rest is a bit of blur. I collapsed, was pulled of the train, and taken away from the platform. There were a lot of TFL employees, still blood flowing everywhere, and then paramedics, an ambulance, and a hospital.

Not the best day. And to top it all off, when I was discharged from the hospital, I had no idea where I was or how to get home. Plus, when I got on a bus I was deducted almost all of my Oyster credit for not touching out when the paramedics came and got me from the station. Awesome!

So, 4 buses and a train later, I made it home. At which point I decided I wanted nothing more than to go home home.

Wednesday – At the insistence of a friend I decided to go in to Mind UK. Well, attempted to. I got on the bus, only to have it stop halfway there, declare it was now out of service, kick us all off, and drive away. Not having enough credit to catch another bus there, and who-knows-how-many-more back, I went home. There was also some parental drama that I won’t get in to. But, it wasn’t fun either.

Thursday – I took a mental health day. Watched about a million episodes of Community and went for a nice, long, leisurely walk, and took a lot of pictures. I decided to give London another shot and not head home quite yet.

Friday – I moved. Again?! Yes, yes, I know. I’ve moved out of Sally’s house for the second time, but this new arrangement seems much more ideal than the previous one. The room is bigger, the rent is cheaper, and I’m about 5 steps away from Sally and Karen.

Saturday – Today was nice. Karen and I moved some furniture, which was quite the adventure! I did some unpacking, met a lot of the people around the neighbourhood, had a lovely dinner with Sally and Michelle, and joined in on some Guy Fawkes Day celebrations.

And tomorrow, I’m back to work! The job is great when I’m not having a panic-ridden day. It’s busy, the day goes by fast, and there’s lot of interesting people. It’s a fantastic place to people-watch. I tend to get there early, so there’s always some time to sit and listen.

Anyway. It’s late, and I’m tired. I decided to write because I couldn’t get to sleep with all the fireworks going off, but they seem to have stopped. Fingers crossed!