So here I am, exposing myself to all of you in order to feel like I am safely on a path towards ending this hell I am going through.
Anxiety is no good, we all know that.
But how no good IS no good?
I've only had one true panic attack, went to the ER etc. But all I am doing now is worrying about worrying?
It all started about 8 months ago. I was wrongly accused of stealing at work when I started having anxious thoughts that I would lose my job, go to jail, fall over and trip my head on the tree standing 100 metres away from me.. you know, the usual anxious banter.
It sent me into a brain mode I had never experienced before and even though I tried to calm myself down it just became worse, and worse and worse that I started hyperventilating and was driven to our nearest hospital.
After a quick "shoo get out" from the nurses I made an urgent appointment with my GP who said I experienced my first panic attack! The smile on his face was very familiar to me. Like when my mum saw my first A on my report card. Little did he know I wanted to grab my stuff and run the hell out of there, into my bed and away from the world... but I didn't. I made an appointment with a clinical psychologist, grabbed a healthy packet of valium and was on my way.
Over the next 3 months the visits to the GP were often, shortly after my first few weeks on this new "lifestyle" I gave in and started taking Lexapro.
My visits to the psychologist became less and less frequent and life seemed to be OK again. Well... Was I in for a treat.
One night, as I was wining and dining at a fancy Thai restaurant I was stricken with FEAR. "Oh Em Gee . I can;t breathe again! I'm gonna have another one! I know it! It's coming back!" I ran. I told my partner to grab the food take-away and that I wanted to get the HELL OUT OF THERE.
So I did. And it was good.
fast forward to now...
I am on a healthier dose of Lexapro, doing OK but lately I have been feeling depressed. You see, half of my battle is that this anxiety has taught me the hard lesson that my life wasn't as dandy as I thought. I have had to make real decisions and it's forcing me to live a lifestyle better suited for someone my age. ( I used to be a party person. No drugs though
I am having to make career decisions, having to really look at my health and well being and although this may seem like a good idea to your average Joe, for me it's a boulder, no, a MOUNTAIN of responsibility and added anxiety that I just don't want!
The result of this has lead me to believe I may lose the plot and become suicidal. Which, clearly, is not something I want. But when the depression kicks in, accompanied by bouts of anxiety and rumination... you can honestly think you're going bonkers.
It's 4 in the morning here in Adelaide, Australia. I can't sleep because I am so scared and really? I just wanted to vent. This place seemed like it would do the job.
I know this post may have sounded funny if not a tiny bit sarcastic, but as many of you, this is very real to me. It hurts me emotionally and I feel so vulnerable. Taking to psychologist only has so many perks. maybe you guys can help. Help?