Growing up I never really knew what the extreme episodes of despair and helplessness I felt were, they'd come and go, usually in the most unexpected moments. I'd catch myself running out of breath, unable to control my mind, and feeling like the world is crumbling down all at once. Eventually they'd happen so often that you kind of know each time as a new occurrence takes place that "oh here it comes, brace yourself". But no matter how hard you try to prepare yourself for the imminent misfortune, when it hits, it hits hard. You'll never be able to sit through it without taking a huge blow to your mental stability. As your heart beats faster, almost like it's coming out of your chest, as you feel like you're being suffocated by the lack of oxygen caused by hyperventilation, as you feel crippled by the thoughts of despair and how you won't make it this time, underneath it all you beg for it to stop, and would give up anything for it to just end.
I had another one of these today. While I sat there I had the sudden urge to document the process. So I somehow managed to take out my phone and recorded myself while the panic attack happened. I felt my eyes engorged with tears as I struggled to breathe. I repeated over and over in my head to breathe in, breathe out, one at a time, in, and out... I couldn't hear, I couldn't see, all I could feel was the sheer panic of"oh no, not again...". I texted the few friends whom I've entrusted myself to talk to in the past while these episodes took place, desperately hoping someone would pull me out of the downward spiral that was rapidly engulfing me whole. They text back and remind me to breathe and drink water, while I continue to spiral. In those moments even the people you feel closest to stop feeling the same, you start to question the validity of your relationships with them and how much they really care about you, and even if they did care there could always a level of impersonation. "Everyone's got their own problems, you are the last of their worries, you can't rely on anyone else to care for you. You are being a burden, you are being pitiful, you can't continue to confide in others while you're going through these things because no one can help you and you are just embarrassing yourself. You are a no one, not to them, not to anyone. Your problems mean nothing." These thoughts ran across my mind as I felt more tears in my eyes, so much but they won't come out for the life of me for some damn reason. I just wanted to cry and release, I wanted to be set free. I felt like maybe the tears would give me an outlet to feel better but they just held on for dear life and I felt more helpless and stuck than ever. And so, I sat in silence, eyes engorged with tears, head spinning, running out of breath, with my fears, shame, and lack of sense of self...
While I sat there and watched myself in the video I was recording it almost felt like an out of body experience. What looked back at me didn't feel like me, I couldn't relate or connect to the face staring back at me. She looked like she was taking some deep breaths but there wasn't any sign of panic. It almost looked pretentious to me. Was she struggling? Didn't seem like it. It actually looked like she was trying to pretend to be having a hard time. Is this what people see when I have a panic attack? Is this why there are more people out there struggling with this but we don't hear about the struggles as often as we should? These thoughts feel like pure lunacy, and nothing makes sense. Not the panic attacks themselves and not the thoughts that follow. The panic attack happened nearly two hours ago yet I'm still left feeling crippled as I'm sitting here typing these words. Why am I like this, why does this always happen, and why do I feel so worthless? How can I love myself when I'm so broken that I don't even know how to fix myself? How can things get better if they never stop?
I feel angry and frustrated at myself for not being to fix things, I feel helpless in knowing that no one else can really do much for me, especially when they don't know what it all feels like. I am grateful for my friends for putting up with me all these years while I struggled through episodes after episodes. But to their disappointment and mine, these episodes never stopped, and doesn't feel like they will stop any time soon.
I don't want to give in and think I will never get better. But not knowing why I struggle in the first place doesn't make staying positive an easy endeavor. I guess knowing I'm not the only one in this world who struggles like this does make things feel a little less scary. And for those of you out there with the same struggles I feel for you. I hope one day we can all rise above this and feel better again...
(About 3 weeks med free, but maybe it wasn't the best decision to get off in the first place? Maybe a post about my medication experiences in the next post?)
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