Things seemed out of control. Really out of control. I've been feeling like Job, lost and wondering when the personal plagues will end. When will my depression stop sneaking into my thoughts after the kids have left to visit their dad? When will I stop looking at the carpet wondering how to get lost in its weaves instead of figuring out my emotions? When will I stop crying because I'm angry? When will I keep the power I have to continually fight to get back? When will I learn that it's okay to not be in control of everything?
I used to think that when bad things happened to me that they only happened in threes, come to find out, they also come in tsunamis. Large, overpowering waves that whip your feet out from under you and knock your breath out of you.
Driving into work a couple weeks ago I had a panic attack. I used to never panic, just low key stress and problem solve. I didn't think it was a panic attack until I realized that it was all in my head. So much is happening around me and I have no control of it. One of the things that has smashed my individual motivation was being turned down for a new car because of someone else lacking. I was approved, right there, the kids and I would finally have a reliable car and then, "It turns out ______ hasn't been making _______. So you can't get a car today." It turned into a snowball effect and the car I was blessed to be given started to slowly break down. The car I lovingly call, The Green Machine was dying when I needed it most. It had to be fixed twice, blessed to have it fixed for free, but in the process I depleted my savings on rental vehicles to get me and the kids where we needed to go. Then today, on the way to work, I was so worried and fearful that I was inhaling fumes or that the car would break down on me that I started to panic...and didn't even know it until I realized that I was about to pass out from the peaked adrenaline and rapid breathing. I'd never had an attack like that. Usually I just start to feel a little light headed and feel like my stomach is being stabbed by tiny ninjas inside my guts. I identify it and start working through some strategies that I found work for me. I ask myself, "What's the worst that can happen?" "Will you get hurt?" "Can you solve this problem?" and usually that works. But this morning was different. I couldn't get through to myself. I couldn't break through my mental and think logically. I was driving and I was frozen. I watched as the gas gauge fluctuated and began to obsess about it. I managed to turn the air around me into carbon monoxide and the "worst that could happen" was that I was going to pass out and wreck and then no one could pick my kids up from school. No one would know how to do Maliya's hair. No one would protect Little Matt from bullies. No one would tell them I loved them three times a day. I wanted to crack the window and was afraid to because, "What if it didn't roll back up? It's supposed to rain today." I looked at the clock and it was already 7:07 am. Late for work. I couldn't pull over because, "What if the car didn't start back up?" This is what anxiety does to you. It turns your logical brain into a "What if" factory and it can consume you so quickly that you go from positive and prospering to feeling like you're on the edge of death in a matter of seconds.
This is what my days are like almost constantly. It hits me like a dust storm. I can KIND OF see it coming but don't know where to run and most of the time once I'm in it I just have to let it run its course.
I used to watch commercials about anxiety and never really understood how someone could be paralyzed by their thoughts. After all, these are all fictional happenings. Anxiety isn't real. I didn't understand what was happening to me. My sessions of panic and anxiety started during my separation and got worse going through the divorce. Suddenly the level of unanswered questions kept growing. I didn't know where my kids were when they weren't with me. I was so used to seeing them every day and now I was forced to go days without seeing or talking to them. My normal was completely uprooted and I wasn't prepared for handling it all mentally. My brain went into attack mode but instead of attacking outside forces, it cried "MUTINY!" and attacked me.
I've been learning to take charge of my thoughts and let things "just be" but sometimes my brain likes to remind me that this is a process. Sometimes it seems like I have it worse because my brain functions in a chain. One thing will remind me of another. I can be sitting down picking at my nail, so I'll inspect my hand and think how they look like my dad's, then I'm thinking of my dad, "Why didn't he want to talk to me," "Why doesn't the father of my children want to talk to me," "Where are the kids," "I hope they're okay...." and spiral down.
See. The truth is. I'm a christian. But more than that, I have a relationship with God. I know that anxiety and panic attacks aren't from Him. I know what the bible says about healing. But I'm also human and sometimes it sucks.
