Overcoming Panic Disorder and Anxiety

 

 

Anxiety manifests itself in many different ways.    At one time it can appear to be angry, another excitable or jittery.   It can make you talk fast and worry often.   When those forms of anxiety begin to turn inward,  it becomes a whole other beast!    It begins to create a state of fear and paralysis.   Simple tasks like driving in a car can become near impossible.   The mind actually seeks out what is commonly referred to as "hot spots", specifically, negative thoughts or worries, and fixates on them.   Anxiety does not want to focus on the positive...it feeds off of adrenalin and, if your not careful, can transform into depression, panic disorder, agoraphobia (the inability to leave the confines of your home/"safe place").   Unfortunately, anxiety got a hold of me during my transition from adolescent to adult.   I had it under control by the age of 25, or so I thought.   However, it was just finding ways to disguise itself in order to sneak up on me when all seemed to be going well.   A strong-willed person with a great deal of mental fortitude, I was able to quiet the noise in my mind and find ways to rest and function as a "normal" (I so don't believe in that word!) person.   To read, to decompress, to sleep, to continue to go to work and follow routines.   And then, I became a mother....

 

 

 The greatest label I've ever had...

Now, don't get me wrong, becoming a mother has been an enormous blessing for me.   It brought more love, life, determination, drive, and focus than anything ever had before.    My purpose was to love and care for this little baby brought into this world by the grace of God along with my husband and my choice alone.   Everything about her was because of us.   If she was colicky, crying, screaming, or throwing a tantrum, it was my responsibility to help her.   I was never frustrated with her, resentful of lack of sleep, and when she cried, I cried.   I would stare at her for hours and hours, as many new mothers do, in amazement!   What a miracle she is!   What a precious, innocent, baby....How could we have created this incredible dream that I was holding in my arms?   My post partum state was surprisingly without hormonal downfalls, rather, it was awe inspiring!   The absolute happiest time in my life.   My life....Well, suddenly, I became very sick and wasn't getting better.   My previous doctor diagnosed me with COPD and put me on Advair and gave me a script for a pulmonologist/pulmonary specialist.   I couldn't believe it!   My daughter was four months old and I was going to die.   That was it.   I wasn't going to see her graduate HS, see her off to college, marry, and have children of her own.   Four months new and my life was ticking away from me.   She would lose me.    I couldn't breathe...my cough got worse and worse.   Within a week, I found myself sitting in the pulmonologist's office listening to her tell me my lungs were fine!   Fully functioning at the highest degree and COPD was not my problem.   She said it was anxiety.   Damn you anxiety!!!   You have found a way to shut me down when I least expected you to come back into my life.   My mind wouldn't listen to you anymore, so you attacked my body.   You took my breathe away and left me with no choice but to go back into my head.   Into all the "what if's" and "worst case scenarios".    What one of my oldest and dearest friends refers to as "catastophizing".    Almost as quickly as the doctor cleared me, my lungs also cleared.   I got better!   I became healthy...COPD or worse faded away...after all, it was never truly there in the first place.   Ahhh...peace again.   Or so I thought.

 

My Life...My Love 

 

 

The same week my daughter turned one, we discovered we were again pregnant.   Had I spent enough bonding time with my first?   Am I shorting her in some way?  My husband was very good about getting me out of my head.   And, by that I mean, reminding me my "brain was attacking me" and "not to let it win".   Again, what he's really referring to when he says "my brain", is anxiety.   Being strong headed and highly logical has made me a virtual savant when it comes to mind over matter.   Or, in this case, mind over mind.   It won't win.   Suddenly, the thought that my daughter would have a friend, and a partner; a sibling to be there when neither myself or my husband can.   To laugh with, cry with, grieve with, share experiences with, to hold each other up.   Those were the thoughts that had replaced my initial fears.   (Which, by the way, are not uncommon for a mother of one when expecting another child.   How could you possibly have any more room in your heart to love anymore without bursting?   You can, do, and there absolutely is more than enough room.  It literally just grows big enough!).   Anyway, here comes my second baby, a girl, and my daughter's new best friend always.   What a beautiful thing!!!   Again, no post partum issues, no hormonal anomalies, all is right in our world.   Sure, I am staying inside a lot more but I have an infant and a one and a half year old?   Its hard right?   What was difficult before, like driving with them in the car, has changed.   Now, its avoiding driving even when I am the only passenger.   Shake it off...your fine.   You're a good mom.    Your babies love each other, are thriving, and your marriage is not only stable, but cooperative and supportive.   I had been singing a few nights a month and getting out more and more on my own, without my husband and babies.   Regaining myself as me.   As who I was before and who I am.   All is good.   Everything is going great.   Or, was it?

 

 

 Happiness

December 7th, 2013, anxiety struck again.   After a long day including a Christmas party, pictures with Santa, and getting our tree, my two year old needed her diaper changed.   We have a portable cushion we were using for her by then for quick changes as she had outgrown the changing table.   So, I grabbed it, put it on the floor, and proceeded to change her as usual.   All was fine.   She was dry, changed, and comfortable.   I stood up only to collapse, unable to get back up.   My husband is upset because I won't answer him and my daughter is saying "what's wrong mommy?"....but, I can't talk.   I'm afraid to talk.   My heart is beating four different ways at a speed and strength I had never ever experienced before.   All I could do was whisper "my heart".   He ran over to me and felt my chest.   It was clear in his face...this was serious.   It was horrible having my toddler want to be near me and telling me "I'll make you feel better" and I have to get my husband to remove her from the situation.   Those seconds very likely could be my last and I can't hold her, hug her, or let her see me.   They are going to crack open my chest.   I will be in the ICU if God allows me to live.   I'm too young!   I have to live for them!   My husband calls my mother with his cell to ask her to run over and babysit while he takes me to the emergency room.   There is no time.   I use mine to call 911.   My heart is in arrhythmia and my blood pressure is sky high!   This is real.   This is happening.   This is the end.

 

 

Leaving my girls and not knowing if I'd ever see them again this night was the hardest and most helpless thing I have ever experienced!

 

Tests revealed dehydration, as many mothers can understand...although, may not be aware.   It was a busy day.   Eating right and drinking right were not on my mind.   There was too much to do.   I grabbed soda at the party, helped my daughter make a craft instead of eating, and ate a quick bite when we returned that evening...with a coke...and after that, a cup of caffeinated coffee.   They ran many tests and were very concerned with my symptoms such as heart rate and blood pressure.   (The arrhythmia had ceased, and although my resting heartbeat was ridiculously high, it was stabilized.   Tachycardia, an abnormally rapid heartbeat, is no stranger to me.)     One doctor was particularly concerned more with what I was saying...   "I can't leave my girls"..."I can't die on them"..."They're too young"..."I'm too young"..."I haven't done enough", "lived enough", "there's too much ahead for them I need to be here for!"....He ordered a shot of Ativan...(Mind you, I was not screaming, yelling, or acting like a crazed lunatic.   I was weeping.   It was all my body knew it could do...I had to remain as still and speak as quietly as possible to keep me alive.)...Anyway, think what you want, but he ordered a shot of Ativan.   And that was that.   I fell asleep.   My vitals and heart went back to normal.   Feeling came back in my lips and hands.   It was over.   I was alive.   They sent me home.   Sent me home???   What if it comes back?  What if its not over?   What if, what if, what if????   Anxiety upped its game.   Panic Disorder...I'd take depression over panic any day!  

 

 

 

It has been over three months since that day.   I have lived very gingerly since then.   Bending over, picking up toys, putting down my one year old for a nap, all scare me.   Its going to happen again.   After all, arrhythmia can cause a heart attack!   Its there, lurking.   My general practitioner ran more tests.   Nothing is out of the ordinary.   She refers me to a cardiologist...(sound familiar...COPD/Pulmonologist?)...except this doctor is very perceptive...tells me she wants to treat the anxiety before I go through a stress test.   I will fail due to panic.   She says my ekg shows a strong heart, however fast, and sees moms like me all the time.   Panic Disorder.   Everyone is convinced...I want to believe she's right.   But the fear of that day is very hard to shake.   I cannot run...I cannot dance with my girls at the end of Cinderella Two: Dreams Come True like we always do anymore.   I cannot sing.   I have pain in my chest all the time.  

 



 My heart beats for them...

 

 

Little by little, the fear begins to subside...but over-exertion is out of the question.  Caffeine was completely cut out of my diet all together.   (Which is huge because my friends can attest, I was probably born with a coke classic in my hand!)   A coffee lover...now decaf only.   I decided not to go to the cardiologist.   Its too hard.   Don't tell me.   I'm terrified to know.  Let me just believe it won't happen again.   They can't fix it anyway!   My husband approaches me in a very gentle way and I begin to avoid anything strenuous.   All I want is to take care of my girls, remain as calm as possible, and make sure my adrenalin level remains normal.   I drink more water than you can imagine.   And I'm afraid, everyday.   Not as much as before...but its there.   Its always there.  

 



 

 

At least once a day...my heart is at the forefront of my mind...and its threatening...

Last week was our four year wedding anniversary.   I worried about driving into the city.  About walking city blocks...having a heart attack.   "Its your mind attacking you"...We left.   We walked.   We laughed.   We explored.   Upstairs and downstairs of some of the most beautiful landmarks in NYC.   I was fine.   My heart was fine.   Nothing bad happened.

 



 

This coming weekend is my daughter's third birthday.   We have a party booked for her that is sure to be nothing shy of incredibly fun.   I'm stressing less.   She knows, for the first time in her life, that her birthday is coming.    We've been trying to make this whole week special for her as grasping the "day of her birth" is a concept still too mind boggling for her to comprehend.   So we've been making her feel "birthday special" all week long.   Today, we took her to climb on a toddler obstacle course in which she was strapped to a harness and felt like "a real climber"...her words.   Just across from the toddler course happens to be the largest indoor rope obstacle course in the country.    At its highest level...you are balancing and maneuvering at a height of 85 ft off the ground.   If you figure 15-16ft divided into 85ft...you are balancing, albeit harnessed but still, at a level which topples that of a four story building with nothing but a rope or a balance beam, or uneven wood blocks beneath your feet.   At times, you are literally walking across a wobbly spider web like rope, holding your weight and pulling yourself along with nothing solid beneath you!   It takes strength in your arms, legs, core, balance.  Its high.   Dizzyingly high!   My husband had mentioned before that he would love to see me try it.   Today I was the one who said, "I'm going to do it!"...and I did!   There was a man with me.   I learned he was a former fire fighter who had succumbed to a fear of heights and an anxiety disorder.   He goes there to help him overcome it.   He had never made it past the second level and avoided the harder aspects of the course.   We worked together, starting from the bottom.   At level three, he yelled to my husband..."She's a great coach!"...He was satisfied.   I was not.   We parted ways...he went back down via the stairs.   Since my breathing and heart were fine, I kept going.   I felt stronger with each step and my husband took three elevators with our daughters to watch me go all the way to the top.   He took lots of pictures....I did it.   With only two instances where I felt a fear of heights and a feeling of nauseating vertigo, not my heart, would be the detriment which would cause me to quit...I let it go.   I knew it wasn't real.   And when it was all said and done...my heartbeat was normal...my breathing was normal.   There wasn't any numbness or fear.   I looked at my husband with a huge smile on my face and said "That was one heck of a stress test!" lol...He simply replied..."Yes it was".    

 

 

Mind over mind...every time! 

 

 

 

Thanks for reading...xo