Thankful for my crew

If reading about panic attacks bothers you, I beg you don’t read this. Your health is more important than a blog post.

Here’s the thing: all health, especially mental health, is never a straight line between day to day. Here’s the thing: you can think you’re strong as hell about an extremely challenging situation but when a perfect storm begins, you’ll crumble faster than a cardboard box in a hurricane.

Here’s the thing: a little under a week ago I had not only my first panic attack in nearly a year but possibly the worst one I’ve ever had. Permanent Roommate, bless his heart, was trying to help me with job prospects. After an especially shitty day his questions broke something in me. Within a few minutes he was nearly carrying me into our bedroom because I could barely stand. Perhaps it was because I was crying so hard or because I was hyperventilating so quickly I thought the ground was moving.

Fifteenish minutes later PR tries to peel me out of my rigid fetal position. I’m choking on air more so than inhaling. There are tears and snot everywhere. I’ve tried to ensure PR’s standards regarding my position are low, but this went far beyond seeing me without makeup. Logically, I know he wouldn’t leave me due to this. Anxiety and panic attacks don’t see the logic. My brain can switch to a carnal, unpleasant mode that is more vacant than aware.

To say it felt like a giant’s hands were squeezing my windpipe, ribcage, heart, and gut would be to lessen the feeling to something that can be described. I lost my connection to reality. If PR wasn’t there I would have suffered even longer. He was at the other end of the rope I was feeling unravel in my sweaty grip. He was sure as he coached me through deep breaths. He got me water (with my favorite metal straw) and eventually got me to sit up so my forehead wasn’t pressed against my knees.

I spent the next 36 hours as a vacant zombie. My overload of emotion Friday night used up my smiles and laughter. By Sunday evening I was vaguely human again and started the work week feeling like I’d recognize myself in the mirror if I bothered to look myself in the eye. I crashed again Monday afternoon, though not as dramatically. My biorhythms took several days to balance. As of writing this on Wednesday evening, I feel like myself again. If PR hadn’t been there to get me out as quickly as he did I would probably still be wading through the highs and lows. I tried to tell him how much it meant to me that he’d clearly read up on what to do when someone is having a panic attack but the words I managed didn’t feel right.

How do you thank someone for saving something inside of yourself? That part would have healed eventually but the scar tissue would have altered me somehow. If you care about someone with mental health issues, please please learn what to do when the worst happens.

One thing PR made sure to point out to me was how both our dogs were on the bed when I finally came back. They were clearly unnerved but curled up in little donuts of solidarity. Animals are amazing at knowing when their humans aren’t well.

I had to take time off writing to recover. It didn’t feel good to have the words build up in me. It’s like going days without a toothbrush. I wouldn’t want to open my mouth to talk to anyone, let alone a blinking cursor on my computer. Writing can unite so many of us but the practice of it is incredibly isolating. After what happened alone was the last thing I needed to be.

I apologize for my silence. I’ve done so well with posting twice a week. I was proud of myself for sticking to the schedule. But, like I posted recently, I’m trying to give myself grace. I’ve been outside more in the last few days than I have in weeks. Lots of good, easy music, talking with my amazing friends, and poking PR in the butt so he knows I love him. I’m so thankful for him, for them, and for all the things that bring me joy. I hope, on this holiday, your reason to be thankful is deeper than you know how to express. It’s a heavy, amazing feeling that overwhelms you in the best way.

I hope you’re giving yourself the grace to recover from the ugly shadowed things that rage in your head. You deserve to notice the way the light plays on the leaves as green turns to red turns to brown.

I’ll talk to you soon

 ᵔᴥᵔ