Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Anxious Memory

I had my first panic attack today.

At least I think that's what it was.

I was watching something. An old cartoon I used to watch with my grandma. I thought it might be nice to have a sentimental moment while I convalesced on the couch from a stupid back injury thing.

As soon as the music started I was back in my grandmother's living room, holding the soundtrack's album cover, singing along and pretending I was the lead character. I felt a fondness settle in but it didn't last. Soon, as the next song began to play, I noticed I was shaking a bit. I'd just eaten lunch and hadn't yet taken the meds for my back so I couldn't place the tremor right away.

I ignored it at first; tried to focus on the memory of going to the library with grandma to get the record. For a moment I could smell her house, hear my feet on the hardwood floor and then...something switched.

I realized that my heart was racing. It was fluttery and fast and I placed my fingers to my wrist to count the pulse but stopped when I couldn't focus. My eyes went back to the television, my four year old memories playing and I felt a cold trickle of fear travel down my spine. What the hell was happening to me?

The last two fingers on my left hand got tingly and I instantly thought I was having a heart attack. I told myself that must be what it was. I was fat after all, and clearly not in good shape and why wouldn't I have a heart attack? I told myself I was going to die. Right then and completely alone. Somehow I got up and slowly started walking around the house.

I took a couple of really big breaths. I shook my hand and the tingly sensation lessened. I remembered that I had strained my elbow when I hurt my back, that was no doubt why I felt the tingles. I'd been holding a book in that hand for awhile and really it wasn't that unusual for my hands to get tingly. Yay carpal tunnel. But that wasn't a heart attack. I breathed some more.

I made myself pick up my phone and looked up symptoms of a panic attack.  While I didn't have the shortness of breath,  I definitely felt frightened. And somehow I knew I was doing that to myself. It was as though I'd talked my brain into being a dick. Once I realized that, I began to calm down.

The program still played in the background and I noticed it was nearly over. I turned it off. I laid down on the couch and closed my eyes, taking deep breaths until I fell into a nap.

Later, after I'd woken, I felt exhausted but clear. My back pain had even lessened. I walked around the house a bit. And I started thinking.

I know I have a lot of shit to work out. I didn't know it was shit like this. I don't know if me watching that old program was my trigger but it could have been. A lot of memories were stirred up in just the first few minutes.

I don't know if my back flaring up was a trigger but it could have been. Having back pain makes me feel so helpless and useless. I struggle with injury depression colliding with my already there depression every time it happens.

I don't know if my carpal tunnel tingly hand was a trigger but it could have been. I know where it originated from and it was a time when I was worse than I am now in terms of struggling internally.

I don't know. I'm not a shrink. I don't even seen one anymore but I reminded myself today it might not be a bad idea. I've been frightened before, maybe even terrified but this...was something different. It was consuming and uncontrollable and fast. But I'm pretty sure it was only a mild one if it was in fact a panic attack. I've seen people have them and the look of terror on their faces is so understandable now.

I've had a rough couple of days with this back injury/pain and feeling helpless thing. I've had to miss a bit of work because of it which only adds more stress because I'm still fairly new there and I don't want to screw things up. I had to ask for help today to get dressed. My Fella has now seen me at one of my weakest moments and though I know he loves me still, it was hard to let it happen. I'm still trying to adapt to myself and whenever I'm injured like this, it feels like a life setback.

I feel like I shouldn't have tried to watch that program.

I feel that by doing so, I've just started to dig up some things that I've been keeping buried for a long time. So long in fact, I'd nearly forgotten they were still there.

Can't ignore myself. Not if I want to adapt. I guess I know that.

Jesus, just next time, could I NOT have a whatever that was be the thing that reminds me?