Anxiety is called “fear disconnected from its original cause.” What does that mean to you? What were you causing triggers?
I don’t remember when it started. But every evening I would feel my anxiety rising, like the temperature in a thermometer. I was finally off Paxil, but I clung to my trazodone. I only had to make it till bedtime and I could take those two blissful pills and everything would disappear for a while. But it wore off, consistently, in the early morning hours. And try as I might I couldn’t sleep. So I just lay there. Morning, another day. And then sure as sh*t, it started again every evening, sea level rising to drown me.
Then, one day at work, May 29th, the panic attacks started. I told my bosses I was sick, and I rushed to my acupuncturists. Relief. I was able to get in to see a psychiatrist. She prescribes Celexa. The next day I went to work again, and that afternoon they started again. I couldn’t breath, I felt like something large was sitting on my chest. I thought I was going to die. I left work and ran to acupuncture again. But no relief. My heartrate was out of control, and I could not stop crying. They contacted my psychiatrist who told me to go to the ER or Urgent Care. I knew this was bad, and I knew if we went to the hospital I wouldn’t be allowed to leave. I went to Urgent Care, they did an EKG, started an IV, and gave me Ativan. Some relief. But now I was broken. Some wall that I had built to lock or hide away all that anxiety had shattered. I knew I could not go back to work.
What is this anxiety all about? Where did it come from? What was I so afraid of? I’ll tell you.
Lather, rinse, repeat forever. I was stuck in a life that was no fun. Rushing to drop my daughter off at preschool. Rushing around at work trying to get 40 hours of work done in 30 hours. Rushing home to make dinner and trying to spend time with my daughter when all I wanted to do was go to sleep. Day in, day out, the same thing over and over. Nothing refueling me. Nothing refreshing me. And my saviors, those two white pills, prevented me from doing anything in the evenings (because I had to take them an hour before bedtime and couldn’t drive once I took them). But blaming it on the pills isn’t the whole picture, because truth is, all I wanted to do was sleep, all the time. I was trapped. And I felt intense guilt and shame for not wanting to be around my daughter. She was exhausting. Always talking, always inventing stories she wanted me to act in, always asking questions, always wanting to dance with me or run with me or jump with me. I was so tired. I am so tired. And I felt so much guilt if I had to sacrifice my time with her, or from work, to go to my many doctors appointments. I was in lockdown. I hated my life. I envied my nanny’s life, single and carefree. She wasn’t burdened like I was. She wasn’t a burden like I was. She told me she envied me! Wished she had a husband and child. I told her it doesn’t simplify your life, it makes it more complicated. It means you have more people you can let down and disappoint.