Remember how in my last post I talked about how I was managing, not dealing? Well that hit me in the face real hard. I had a massive panic attack about a month ago that I did not expect to have and yet after it I thought “well that was horrible but I had ‘the big panic’ and now I can chill”. I was very very wrong.
About a week and a half ago I experienced a panic attack that I truly thought was going to be the end of me. It was the worst type of panic I had ever felt and it continued for days. The first three days were a constant panic, there was little to no relief. I’m used to having panic attacks, they’re nothing new to me. However, I’m also used to that feeling of relief you get after having one and now I wasn’t feeling that. My brain was so overwhelmed that it just wouldn’t stop. I would feel myself calm down for a few minutes and then we’d be back to a full level 10 panic attack. The level of panic is indescribable. What I can say is that I felt completely out of control, I felt there was no possible way I could do this. I got to the point where I thought I would never be okay again. I almost went to the hospital because I thought that being severely medicated would be the only way to survive. I also thought about jumping off the balcony from my apartment, that’s a thought that I never wanted to feel. I felt so helpless and so exhausted, it felt like my only way out. I know that’s not the case, it’s just what my brain was trying to tell me at that time. It took everything I had to get myself out of that panic. It was three days of constantly telling myself I can do this, I am capable, I am strong. There wasn’t a waking minute that I wasn’t actively fighting the negative thoughts in my brain. It was exhausting, I’m exhausted. I couldn’t eat, I had trouble staying asleep, I was constantly shaking and sweating, I couldn’t take care of myself physically. I went two days without brushing my teeth because I didn’t have the mental capacity to do that tiny act. That feels so gross and embarrassing to even talk about but hey, that’s what I’m here for I guess.
Eventually throughout each day came a point where I would be at a somewhat calm level where I could force myself to eat. In those three days all I had to eat was two dry bowls of cheerios, a few slices of bread, a small bowl of spaghetti noodles, and a small bowl of mashed potatoes. I usually love food, I eat like a 300lbs male sometimes. It was so weird for me to not have any appetite, in fact when I would eat I would almost throw it up. I felt so nauseous and so weak. I would wash my food down with sips of water because I couldn’t swallow without it. I know that this sounds dramatic, but it was reality. I lost 8lbs in three days. I knew that the only way I was going to regain strength was to give my body what it needs, even if it was just a little, it was better than nothing. It’s crazy how much mental illness can affect you physically. I felt like I had the worst flu ever all because of what my brain was putting me through.
Last Sunday was the first good day I had since the initial panic attack. I woke up anxious which automatically made me feel like the day was going to be hard, then I experienced a wave of emotion that I’m sure came from God. I had been reaching out to him and begging him for some relief and strength and that morning I received it. I started blubbering like a baby because I felt like my prayers had been heard. I was able to eat without feeling sick. I was able to brush my teeth. I was able to go outside for the first time in four days. I felt that relief I was so desperately searching for.
The past week has been mostly better. I still wake up every day in a panic but I am able to function more during the day which wasn’t a reality for me before. I’ve been trying to give myself grace and patience because I know that this isn’t a quick fix. I know that I’m still not doing good, in fact I’m feeling a little anxious typing this. However, I know that I can do this. I know that it won’t last forever. I’m sure this isn’t the end of those panic attacks, the world is a crazy place right now and I’ve been avoiding it for too long, but I know I can get through them. I’m scared to feel that again; I don’t want to go through it, I don’t want to have to fight like that, but I can and I will.
The past few weeks my brain has been giving me little warnings that I needed to start dealing with my stuff instead of “managing” and I ignored them. Without even realizing it I pushed them aside because I thought that was the worst of it. I realize now that I can’t avoid it. I have to work on this every single day, not just when I feel bad. It’s hard to deal with all of this when it explodes all at once but it doesn't have to be that hard, I don’t have to let it get to that point. I can work on helping myself daily so that it doesn't build up like it has been. I’m bad for pushing my mental health aside when I feel good, I can’t do that anymore. I know that I can help myself but I have to keep at it.
I’m exhausted, I’m emotional and I’m drained. I am also strong, powerful, and determined. I know I am capable, even if it doesn’t feel like it in that state of panic. I know I can do this. I’ve been doing it for 14 years and I can’t stop fighting now. Giving up isn’t an option. I will continue to give myself grace and patience. I will fight for Megan, not anxiety. I know that God does not give us more than we can handle. I believe in God’s plan and I believe in myself. I'm thankful for the support system I have, I know I've been a lot the last few weeks but I truly wouldn't be here without them. As tough as it is, I'm proud of myself. I'm proud that I can realize my strength in moments of weakness. I'm proud that I'm choosing to fight and carry on.
As always, thank you for reading and thank you for the support.
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