Well, I finally confirmed for myself what I've suspected for a while now. I have anxiety attacks. This explains the weird sensations I've had for months now that the doctors just couldn't explain. My husband chalked it up to hypochondria (which I vehemently denied). The doctors just said they couldn't figure out what it was (contributing to my mistrust of Western medicine). After all, there's nothing in my life that would cause additional stress...like a move, job change, change in income, miscarriage, and lifestyle change!
When I think about it, I've had these attacks for almost 18 years now. I've always ignored this possibility because in my head I see anxiety as one step away from schizophrenia. I know this is highly unlikely, but given my mother's mental health history, it makes sense. When you're mother or father has a severe mood disorder, you find yourself hyper vigilant about the symptoms in your own life. I wrote a poem about it in the margins of my college algebra notes that starts, My mother had a secret that she whispered once to me.
What's even worse is that it's hard to explain to someone else (like my husband) how something like an anxiety attack can take over and derail your plans. It doesn't even make sense to me. A jittery, disruptive feeling just consumes my mind. Every nerve in my body feels like it shooting sparks of electricity. I can't think straight. The thoughts don't stop. At one point today, I just stood in the middle of my kitchen and jumped up and down as furiously as possible. That actually helped some. I took a hot bath with essential oils. I had a mixed drink. I even considered taking a nap, but I knew I would just lie there and twitch. In the end, I took a Xanax (several hours after the mixed drink), and it finally stopped. The difference is like night and day.
I still feel a little strange admitting this, but I'm also relieved to have some answers now. Lately, I've come to see just how important certain habits are for me, like repetitious exercise and solitude and eating properly and having my OWN PLACE TO LIVE IN! I've missed out on all of these for the last two months, and even if I don't tell everyone what's going on, one look at me spills the beans. I caught a glimpse of myself in the car window yesterday. I'm looking pretty pathetic, and this seemingly innocuous imbalance at home is taking it's toll on every aspect of my life.
But I think this chapter in my life will soon be closing. The word on the street is that the bathroom vanities are in. Now I think we're just waiting on the counter tops for both the bathroom and kitchen cabinets and our appliances. We might be actually moving in this week. Sigh. I hope so.
When I think about it, I've had these attacks for almost 18 years now. I've always ignored this possibility because in my head I see anxiety as one step away from schizophrenia. I know this is highly unlikely, but given my mother's mental health history, it makes sense. When you're mother or father has a severe mood disorder, you find yourself hyper vigilant about the symptoms in your own life. I wrote a poem about it in the margins of my college algebra notes that starts, My mother had a secret that she whispered once to me.
What's even worse is that it's hard to explain to someone else (like my husband) how something like an anxiety attack can take over and derail your plans. It doesn't even make sense to me. A jittery, disruptive feeling just consumes my mind. Every nerve in my body feels like it shooting sparks of electricity. I can't think straight. The thoughts don't stop. At one point today, I just stood in the middle of my kitchen and jumped up and down as furiously as possible. That actually helped some. I took a hot bath with essential oils. I had a mixed drink. I even considered taking a nap, but I knew I would just lie there and twitch. In the end, I took a Xanax (several hours after the mixed drink), and it finally stopped. The difference is like night and day.
I still feel a little strange admitting this, but I'm also relieved to have some answers now. Lately, I've come to see just how important certain habits are for me, like repetitious exercise and solitude and eating properly and having my OWN PLACE TO LIVE IN! I've missed out on all of these for the last two months, and even if I don't tell everyone what's going on, one look at me spills the beans. I caught a glimpse of myself in the car window yesterday. I'm looking pretty pathetic, and this seemingly innocuous imbalance at home is taking it's toll on every aspect of my life.
But I think this chapter in my life will soon be closing. The word on the street is that the bathroom vanities are in. Now I think we're just waiting on the counter tops for both the bathroom and kitchen cabinets and our appliances. We might be actually moving in this week. Sigh. I hope so.
Comments
But, congratulations on finally having some answers. That's got to feel good!