When Panic Attacks ... Film At Eleven
I had a full-on panic attack today. For the first time since HIGH SCHOOL.
Grandmommie woke me up by pounding on the door and screaming my name. Because I had a phone call. From someone who'd already hung up.
Normally when she does that shit (and seriously, why can't she just knock at the door like a normal human being?), I'm awake enough not to panic. But today it just dumped tons of adrenaline right into my brain. Which added to the fact that I'd already been stressing was enough, I guess, to dump me into panic mode. And I'd been meaning to call the new doc for a refill of my Xanax but something else always fucking came up.
So I forced myself out of the house to go to work, and it just kept getting worse and worse. I was hyper-vigilant, overwhelmed by customers even across the counter ... and finally I just grabbed a nearby co-worker to watch the register and bolted for the back.
I hoped that if I could just get time for myself, to get my breathing under control, I would be fine. But I couldn't. It took a co-worker coming in to talk me down (she'd had a roommate who had panic attacks) and that was plenty of time for my manager to come in, say I should see a doctor and get a note, and send me home.
So now I've got to go to the doctor. Probably Monday (I hope) and see if I can get a note and a prescription for Xanax and I probably should tell my mom but she'd only worry, but not help. And I'm wide awake because I'm afraid if I go to sleep I'll get woken up again like that and start the whole thing over again.
Because the worst thing is, it kind of yanks the "I'm fine, really I am" rug out from under me. If you've never had a panic attack, it's terrifying. I was telling myself to slow down my breathing, but I couldn't make myself do it. I'm afraid I'll have another one, and I want to huddle in my room, but I know I can't do that, and even if I could, it would be a Very Bad Idea. Because it would be easy for me to hermit myself, if I'm not careful.
Grandmommie woke me up by pounding on the door and screaming my name. Because I had a phone call. From someone who'd already hung up.
Normally when she does that shit (and seriously, why can't she just knock at the door like a normal human being?), I'm awake enough not to panic. But today it just dumped tons of adrenaline right into my brain. Which added to the fact that I'd already been stressing was enough, I guess, to dump me into panic mode. And I'd been meaning to call the new doc for a refill of my Xanax but something else always fucking came up.
So I forced myself out of the house to go to work, and it just kept getting worse and worse. I was hyper-vigilant, overwhelmed by customers even across the counter ... and finally I just grabbed a nearby co-worker to watch the register and bolted for the back.
I hoped that if I could just get time for myself, to get my breathing under control, I would be fine. But I couldn't. It took a co-worker coming in to talk me down (she'd had a roommate who had panic attacks) and that was plenty of time for my manager to come in, say I should see a doctor and get a note, and send me home.
So now I've got to go to the doctor. Probably Monday (I hope) and see if I can get a note and a prescription for Xanax and I probably should tell my mom but she'd only worry, but not help. And I'm wide awake because I'm afraid if I go to sleep I'll get woken up again like that and start the whole thing over again.
Because the worst thing is, it kind of yanks the "I'm fine, really I am" rug out from under me. If you've never had a panic attack, it's terrifying. I was telling myself to slow down my breathing, but I couldn't make myself do it. I'm afraid I'll have another one, and I want to huddle in my room, but I know I can't do that, and even if I could, it would be a Very Bad Idea. Because it would be easy for me to hermit myself, if I'm not careful.