A is for Anxiety

I've debated posting something about this for about 2.5 weeks now.  Ever since all of the awful symptoms came creeping back in.  And finally decided that tonight, I'd get it all out.  Or, at least some.

Some of you know that I've battled depression and anxiety for years now.  I suspect they've been around for a good chunk of my life, but didn't really start to beat my door down until I was about 24.  I started having chest pains one day, and just wrote it off.  I mean, I was 24!  Obviously not a heart attack.  Or, at least, not very likely.  But after a few days, I couldn't shake the feeling any longer.  One of the ways my anxiety manifests itself is through hypochondria.  I went to the ER, and was, of course, told I was fine.  And I was OK with that answer.  For a little while.

I think all in all I went to the ER 3 times, had 4 - 5 EKGs and then ended up at a cardiologist and had an echocardiogram.  Everything came back perfectly normal.  But it wasn't until I finally realized (ie--was FORCED to realize) that all of this was an outward manifestation of my anxiety and depression that I was finally able to get past it--by getting the right help.  

I found a therapist (and finding a good one takes trial and error, TRUST ME), got on some medication (again, trial and error), and while it wasn't without bumps and bruises, I finally started to feel better.  Of course, as years went on, and life went on, there were tweaks in therapy (and long stretches without), and tweaks in medication.  Such is the nature of this disease.

Fast forward to the day after Christmas, 2012.  Our power went out that evening, so we went to Target to wander around.  We started to leave after we found out our power was back, and then I told Jeremy I wanted to check the grocery section for a Sprite Zero, since there wasn't one at the check-out.  We ran into some friends and chatted for a good little while.  We finally left to head home, and saw probably 10-15 emergency vehicles at an intersection near the store.  We were hoping it was just because we were so close to the hospital, and several people had responded to a minor wreck.  We came to find out later that a young woman and her mother passed away, while the young woman's two daughters survived.  (We even later came to find out that the young woman attended our church, though neither Jeremy nor I actually knew her.)  One of the first thoughts I had as we left Target was that Jeremy and I would normally have gone through that intersection heading home from Target and that if we hadn't seen our friends and stopped to chat, maybe we would have been in the path of the drunk driver instead of this family.

Normally, it would have been a sad, but passing thought.  However, for whatever reason that thought lingered.  And lingered.  And before I knew it, WHAM.  Full-blown anxiety.  The chest pain came back, the incredibly anxious and inconsolable thoughts came back....basically, I was a mess again.

I know in the rational part of myself that I'm fine.  I'm not having a heart attack, in fact, I'm likely not having any sort of heart troubles at all (though, trust me, I know it's at least a little more possible now that I'm older and diabetic).  But, if you've ever been in the throes of panic, you know that rational thoughts have no place.  And if you've never been there, a) you're lucky and b) please be kind to those of us who have been there, who are there, and who will be there.  Because trust me...it's not as simple as just "cheering up" or "getting over it".  If it was, I would have made that decision years ago.  Trust me.

It's not like I didn't know this was coming.  Because I did.  I had to wean off of my medications when we were pregnant the first time with Jordan.  Miraculously, I didn't have to go back on after the first miscarriage, as I really thought I'd have to.  But losing two in such a short period of time, and in such a traumatic way, I just knew it would come back.

Thankfully, I still keep in touch with some of my old co-workers from October Road and one of them was incredibly kind enough to spend time on the phone with me last week to teach me some ways to calm down in the midst of the panic.  And it actually does work most of the time.  It worked a little bit today, but I think I needed to be doing it ALL day for it to work completely.  :-P

At any rate, I really just needed to get all of that off my chest (pun somewhat intended).  Today was the worst so far, and prompted me to call the doctor's office--at which I had an appointment scheduled for January 24th--and practically beg to get an earlier appointment.  Tomorrow morning sounds much better.  :)  

I know I've been asking for prayers a lot lately, but I would really appreciate some for all of this.  The meds will take a little while to kick in, so I know I've still got a little bit of a rough road ahead.  

9 weeks.