(no subject)
Time really does start moving very quickly as you get older. I can only imagine it getting even more insane as I age.
I've been experiencing really bad anxiety/panic attacks the last couple of months. Not frequently. But they are still extremely scary and awful.
The first ones started on the ski lift, which was mind boggling because I've been snowboarding since 7th grade, every year, without an issue. But suddenly the chair and the distance off the ground was noticeable to me, and at one of the highest points on one of the most common lifts I get on, I had an anxiety attack. Grasping for air, feeling like I was about to die, not being able to verbalize it because I was on the lift with people I didn't know. Luckily at Copper Mountain, most, if not all, of the lifts have bars. Generally it's newbies and parents who want to bring them down, but if that'll allow me to continue riding, I'll bring the bar down every time.
I kid you not, I thought I was going to fall off that lift and break my neck. I didn't.
The next one happened after a night of heavy drinking, which I rarely partake in. I was hungover, and at one of my favorite restaurants in Denver. But this restaurant is insanely busy, rarely without an hour and a half wait (unheard of in Denver). I went with my mom and Tom. We were sitting in the bar area waiting for our brunch table, and suddenly I couldn't breathe, I thought I was going to be sick, I felt too high off the ground (bar stools), extremely uncomfortable. It was loud. There were too many people. I went outside without saying a word, and took a walk. The cold fresh air helped, but when I went back in I was still extremely uncomfortable.
It happened again when we sat down at our table, this time I almost threw up (I wasn't hungover enough for that to be associated with the drinking), I couldn't breathe. But I sat there and just let it pass.
The next time was in church. Something about the realization of how many people were around me, which I have literally never considered because I didn't care, and the fact that a woman was sitting next to me and was encroaching on my space. It was also very hot. But it happened over and over the entire hour and 15 minutes I was there. At the end, we all hold hands and sing a specific song, at one point I almost had to pull my hand away from the woman next to me. I couldn't handle the entire lack of control I was feeling, or something.
The last time, was in class. Once again I had the realization of being stuck there, not really being able to leave. I couldn't hear what the professor was saying, I was clammy and sweating. I started thinking if he asked me something, which he likes to do, I would have literally no clue what he was talking about. And it continued, again over and over. The problem with that is my classes are all in the same classroom, with the same professor, from 8am to 5pm, with three 10 minute breaks between classes. I talked to my professor and told him I needed to go to the doctor. He was very understanding.
So this has been my struggle recently. My doctor put me on Celexa and gave me Ativan for my panic attacks. At this point I'm less concerned about right now, and thinking into my future of being on airplanes, or hiking at Zion (which we're planning on doing). What if I'm on a cliff hiking and I start freaking out. I don't know what I'd do. Or on an airplane? I'm already prone to anxiety attacks on airplanes, but as bad as they've been I could see myself making a scene. Luckily I will make sure I'm on something for my flights from now on, I'm saving some of the Ativan for that. It's not good.
The Celexa seems okay. On Wednesday I started thinking about death, and how much better I'd be if I weren't here. This happened to me last time I was on Celexa. I also just sat on the couch, the entire day, I hardly moved. Everything felt really bizarre and difficult, I could hardly talk. I decided to try taking it at night to see if that would help. Yesterday seemed better, and I feel okay right now.
I've started thinking about my children. Am I going to pass some of my crazy onto them? My mom is so stable, and I'm like this. I start to feel weak, crazy, fragile, like I'm broken. Did I get this from my dad? My grandma supposedly had bipolar or schizophrenia, it was a long time ago and they treated it with shock therapy. She was homeless for a while, roaming around in downtown Denver. At one point walking in the freezing cold snow without shoes on, pushing a cart. Some cops picked her up and her feet were frost bitten, so they took her in.
Is that where I get this from? Am I crazy? I know jumping to crazy might seem extreme with only the above examples. But I've jumped from depressed, to extreme anxiety, to okay, back to depressed, for the majority of my life. Digging myself a hole and hiding in it for amounts of time. Going full throttle into life and then having a melt down and not doing anything. What am I scared of? Why can't my life and emotions be more stable? These are the things I wonder.
I don't feel safe talking to Tom about it, at least not in depth. Because he doesn't understand. And I don't know, I suppose if I didn't feel this way and I had a significant other who did, it might just scare me.
Am I another Sylvia Plath? Okay, I know, I know. I'm going off the deep end here. Ha.
Eh.