The absolute worst thing in the world for me about panic attacks, is not the attack itself, but the 3-4 days of pain and suffering that inevitably follow.
With the blessed help of the coping skills I learned in therapy, changing my lifestyle and from my thorough absorption of meditation techniques I learned from reading Eckhart Tolle's book The Power of Now: A New Earth, I've been able to reduce the number of panic attacks I typically get from several a month to now having them once or twice per year. BUT, that almost means that when they come on, they're real doozies, and the affect they have on me is magnified exponentially.
This one happened on Sunday. As you've possibly even noticed, I haven't been very good at posting here lately. I've not just been busy, but I'm fighting off a new bout of depression. My monster is rearing it's ugly head, and there's no good rhyme or reason for it, he's just uneasy.
And while for the most part, I've been successful at keeping him at bay, it's taking every ounce of spare energy I've had to battle him.
Sunday, I got overwhelmed with the tidying and the cleaning. Seems to me that whenever I have a breakdown it's related in some way to cleaning. Every corner I went to was piled with stuff. And let me be clear that compared to some houses I've seen, even on our worst day, it's not "that" bad. But it got to me - I was overwhelmed, and I snapped. The panic attack took over and I struggled to breath, felt dizzy. Couldn't control it with my normal coping mechanisms, so I took my ativan and sat the hell down for a few minutes. I still managed to get toys sorted and put away, and played with my daughter, entertained friends for a quick short fathers day visit and put dinner on the table. AND THAT'S WHEN I GOT HIT WITH THE CRAPPY PART.
Aftershocks suck. They're not really panic attacks. They're just the residual suffering your body undergoes to heal itself from the damage done by the attack itself. I've been foggy for 2 days. My jaw hurts so bad, it feels like I've been hit upside the face with a 2x4 by Iron Man. My face is actually bruised along the jaw line and my teeth feel like they're about to fall out. My left shoulder joint is achier. My back and shoulders are as tight as boards.
All this, from a silly panic attack. The only saving grace is that they happen once or twice a year. And despite how awful I feel, I actually feel grateful that I'm aware of how my body is lying to me as it heals itself. Otherwise I would think I was having an actual heart attack.
This is how you get paid for life in the fast lane. Assuming you're not dealing with an addiction too, the truth is even average jane doe's with busy lives and no time to love themselves pay a price. This is the price - I'm not convinced it's worth it.
Showing posts with label panic attacks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label panic attacks. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Monday, January 7, 2013
Viva La Resolution!
I've never been one to set New Year's Resolutions, because the reality is, they never stick. I don't know a single person who sets a New Year's Resolution and keeps it for the long haul. And I think the selection of a new calendar year as the catalyst for significant personal growth is too arbitrary and artificial and thereby sets us up for failure.
I believe we have our own internal clocks that work off our own biorhythms that tell us when change is needed. When course correction is critical and beneficial to our well being our bodies let us know, and often quite loudly. And if we listen to our bodies, and our minds, and our souls, we end up living the most optimal life we can live.
With the reflection I've done over the last 4 to 5 weeks and all of the hurdles I've braced, leaped and cleared, I can tell you that I have resolved to win my battle with weight loss once and for all, and I've determined that I'll do it on my own terms. Of course that means it's also coming at a heftier price tag, but in the end I hope well worth it.
I called last week and scheduled myself for Slimband surgery. I'll be having it done in early March. Coincidentally before my next consultation would have even occurred with the hospital staff for gastric bypass. I know that not everyone can afford to privately pursue this kind of surgery...I am barely scraping it together myself. But the truth of it is, a lot of the anxiety and depression and anger I was experiencing in December related to the treatment we received during that initial consultation, and even more to do with the fact that their only proposed solution was drastically more invasive, disruptive and painfully risky, than the one I originally wanted to begin with.
It's a crying shame that the only option OHIP will cover is vastly more expensive and painful and risky than a lap band. And their only other alternatives (unless of course you're in the military) are 12 week starvation plans and behavioural coaching. Really? We haven't come even slightly further out of the dark ages than to continue blaming the patient? It's saddening honestly.
So instead, I'll suck up 5 years worth of payments (and pay more due to the interest that will accrue) to be sure that I have something that gets me rebounding much more quickly, ensures I can eat normally if not dramatically less than I used to for the rest of my life, and which is then as permanent as I wish it to be. Then should I by chance get pregnant, I'm not introducing the potential that my fetus will be undernourished on top of all the other potential complication it may have. Then, I won't worry if I have a bite full of something my child's birthday cake, a piece of chocolate or anything slightly more fatty than a cucumber, that I'll have unyielding stomach cramps and "dumping". And when all is said and done, I've already been treated more respectfully and cordially than I have been through the entire OHIP sanctioned process.
I never expected the staff who is beholden to our government to administer these services to be bending over backwards for me. Truth be told, I don't even expect that from a private company who get paid megabucks to perform these surgeries. But I ALWAYS expect that people recognize my time is as golden as theirs. In every situation, my money is paying for this surgery - through OHIP or through private arrangements. I'm deeply saddened that this is costing me significantly more than it should.
And OHIP should be covering this type of surgery. It costs less to perform it, and costs significantly less to monitor and sustain it. And finally, the quicker the people who need it have recovered and are sustaining their weight loss, the lighter the cost impacts are in every other related medical area for that patient. Our healthcare system and the successes it boasts worldwide is a corner stone of our society. I'm truly baffled by how we've allowed this system to become so mismanaged. Maybe once McGuinty is replaced and his liberals are finally ousted, we'll find some degree of reform to the whole system, in particular where preventative procedures are expedited through coverage. Something here has got to change!
I believe we have our own internal clocks that work off our own biorhythms that tell us when change is needed. When course correction is critical and beneficial to our well being our bodies let us know, and often quite loudly. And if we listen to our bodies, and our minds, and our souls, we end up living the most optimal life we can live.
With the reflection I've done over the last 4 to 5 weeks and all of the hurdles I've braced, leaped and cleared, I can tell you that I have resolved to win my battle with weight loss once and for all, and I've determined that I'll do it on my own terms. Of course that means it's also coming at a heftier price tag, but in the end I hope well worth it.
I called last week and scheduled myself for Slimband surgery. I'll be having it done in early March. Coincidentally before my next consultation would have even occurred with the hospital staff for gastric bypass. I know that not everyone can afford to privately pursue this kind of surgery...I am barely scraping it together myself. But the truth of it is, a lot of the anxiety and depression and anger I was experiencing in December related to the treatment we received during that initial consultation, and even more to do with the fact that their only proposed solution was drastically more invasive, disruptive and painfully risky, than the one I originally wanted to begin with.
It's a crying shame that the only option OHIP will cover is vastly more expensive and painful and risky than a lap band. And their only other alternatives (unless of course you're in the military) are 12 week starvation plans and behavioural coaching. Really? We haven't come even slightly further out of the dark ages than to continue blaming the patient? It's saddening honestly.
So instead, I'll suck up 5 years worth of payments (and pay more due to the interest that will accrue) to be sure that I have something that gets me rebounding much more quickly, ensures I can eat normally if not dramatically less than I used to for the rest of my life, and which is then as permanent as I wish it to be. Then should I by chance get pregnant, I'm not introducing the potential that my fetus will be undernourished on top of all the other potential complication it may have. Then, I won't worry if I have a bite full of something my child's birthday cake, a piece of chocolate or anything slightly more fatty than a cucumber, that I'll have unyielding stomach cramps and "dumping". And when all is said and done, I've already been treated more respectfully and cordially than I have been through the entire OHIP sanctioned process.
I never expected the staff who is beholden to our government to administer these services to be bending over backwards for me. Truth be told, I don't even expect that from a private company who get paid megabucks to perform these surgeries. But I ALWAYS expect that people recognize my time is as golden as theirs. In every situation, my money is paying for this surgery - through OHIP or through private arrangements. I'm deeply saddened that this is costing me significantly more than it should.
And OHIP should be covering this type of surgery. It costs less to perform it, and costs significantly less to monitor and sustain it. And finally, the quicker the people who need it have recovered and are sustaining their weight loss, the lighter the cost impacts are in every other related medical area for that patient. Our healthcare system and the successes it boasts worldwide is a corner stone of our society. I'm truly baffled by how we've allowed this system to become so mismanaged. Maybe once McGuinty is replaced and his liberals are finally ousted, we'll find some degree of reform to the whole system, in particular where preventative procedures are expedited through coverage. Something here has got to change!
Friday, September 7, 2012
Steady as she goes
So I'm officially through a full day and night without another panic attack and the aftershocks have actually worn off. Aftershocks feel just as awful as the real deal for me. I feel ill, and woozy, and like my ears are on fire. As my muscles catch up with the relaxation of my heart and lungs, I feel dragged through a knot hole backwards, and it takes immense patience to deal with the amount of time it takes to reach a normal state of alertness and calm.
But a couple of nights work free with the hubby, a couple good cathardic chats with my mom and a friend, and a seriously awesome bath with a bottle of wine, and things are levelling off. At least for now.
In the meantime, my neighbours up the road have had a new display up for the last couple weeks and I am finally able to manage sharing it with you. If you look super duper closely, you'll see that the teacher is a crane, and they are all sitting at bench desks...Yes in fact, a few of them even remembered their backpacks!
Thank you to Zoolander for the answers to life's oddities.
You can imagine how the first day's lesson goes:
Mrs. Crane: Welcome children to Honk Your Socks Off 101. In today's lesson, we're going to learn about honking etiquette. It is not ok to honk AT humans, but it is ok to honk FOR them.
Goose 1: But what if the human runs out of bread crumbs? Don't they deserve a good honking?
Mrs. Crane: Ah Goose 1. Good point, however, if the human has already shared bread crumbs with you or your friends, then it's unfair to chastise them. In order to ensure you get a second opportunity at bread with that human, you're going to have to give a little. Remember this, just swim away in a circle, honking once you're a safe distance from them.
Goose 1: Yes, Mrs. Crane.
Goose 2: But what if they're only sharing their bread with another goose? That's totally not fair. I'm hungry too!
Mrs. Crane: Another good point. But if you want any bread at all, you'll be wise to remember that making a big stink and scaring one may in fact result in you getting some bread, but it is also more likely that you'll scare them away, and no one will get any.
Goose 2: Yes Mrs. Crane.
Mrs. Crane: Are their any other questions before we get on with today's lesson?
Goose 3: I have one Mrs. Crane. If we can't honk at them for not giving us bread, can we crap on their cars?
But a couple of nights work free with the hubby, a couple good cathardic chats with my mom and a friend, and a seriously awesome bath with a bottle of wine, and things are levelling off. At least for now.
In the meantime, my neighbours up the road have had a new display up for the last couple weeks and I am finally able to manage sharing it with you. If you look super duper closely, you'll see that the teacher is a crane, and they are all sitting at bench desks...Yes in fact, a few of them even remembered their backpacks!
Thank you to Zoolander for the answers to life's oddities.
Mrs. Crane: Welcome children to Honk Your Socks Off 101. In today's lesson, we're going to learn about honking etiquette. It is not ok to honk AT humans, but it is ok to honk FOR them.
Goose 1: But what if the human runs out of bread crumbs? Don't they deserve a good honking?
Mrs. Crane: Ah Goose 1. Good point, however, if the human has already shared bread crumbs with you or your friends, then it's unfair to chastise them. In order to ensure you get a second opportunity at bread with that human, you're going to have to give a little. Remember this, just swim away in a circle, honking once you're a safe distance from them.
Goose 1: Yes, Mrs. Crane.
Goose 2: But what if they're only sharing their bread with another goose? That's totally not fair. I'm hungry too!
Mrs. Crane: Another good point. But if you want any bread at all, you'll be wise to remember that making a big stink and scaring one may in fact result in you getting some bread, but it is also more likely that you'll scare them away, and no one will get any.
Goose 2: Yes Mrs. Crane.
Mrs. Crane: Are their any other questions before we get on with today's lesson?
Goose 3: I have one Mrs. Crane. If we can't honk at them for not giving us bread, can we crap on their cars?
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Super Woman Syndrome
I don't know if it's really a syndrome in some medical journal somewhere, but I sure know it applies to my world.
I'm living in the land of panic attacks and depression again, and it's about as rough as you could imagine. Between things heating up at my work, and things hubby's work are an inferno, and our daughter's terrible two stage all has me peaking over the edge of a cliff and being secretly joyful for a bit of that kind of relief (metaphorically speaking of course).
Panic attacks for me are more severe than they have ever been before. They used to make me feel claustrophibic, gasping for air and trying my level best to regulate my heart beat. They felt a lot like when your blood sugars get a bit too low. But now, there's all that PLUS, a sort of blanking out behind my eyeballs. Like there's a discernible disconnect between my brain and what my eyes are registering. Everything is blurred and slow motion. There's also a disconnect between my ears and what my brain is registering. I hear everything, but it's affected by that same cloudiness and slow motion that my eyes are dealing with, and both are coming at me like they're on different tape reels.
They are debilitating. They scare the bejeebers out of me more than ever before. I can no longer drive when I'm having them (I learned this with a close call last night), and that means I'm limiting my ability to cope with my parental responsibilities.
I'm no longer in a position where I can afford to take time off work. I'm no longer in a position where I can take ativan as soon as I feel them hitting, because being incapacitated and asleep also does not make for solid parenting skills. I'm meditating, breathing and rationalizing the hell out of these things, and I'm still struggling to manage the physical manifestations of the chaos that's hitting me in my life.
How the hell am I going to survive this?
I'm living in the land of panic attacks and depression again, and it's about as rough as you could imagine. Between things heating up at my work, and things hubby's work are an inferno, and our daughter's terrible two stage all has me peaking over the edge of a cliff and being secretly joyful for a bit of that kind of relief (metaphorically speaking of course).
Panic attacks for me are more severe than they have ever been before. They used to make me feel claustrophibic, gasping for air and trying my level best to regulate my heart beat. They felt a lot like when your blood sugars get a bit too low. But now, there's all that PLUS, a sort of blanking out behind my eyeballs. Like there's a discernible disconnect between my brain and what my eyes are registering. Everything is blurred and slow motion. There's also a disconnect between my ears and what my brain is registering. I hear everything, but it's affected by that same cloudiness and slow motion that my eyes are dealing with, and both are coming at me like they're on different tape reels.
They are debilitating. They scare the bejeebers out of me more than ever before. I can no longer drive when I'm having them (I learned this with a close call last night), and that means I'm limiting my ability to cope with my parental responsibilities.
I'm no longer in a position where I can afford to take time off work. I'm no longer in a position where I can take ativan as soon as I feel them hitting, because being incapacitated and asleep also does not make for solid parenting skills. I'm meditating, breathing and rationalizing the hell out of these things, and I'm still struggling to manage the physical manifestations of the chaos that's hitting me in my life.
How the hell am I going to survive this?
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
A break is a beautiful thing
Especially when it comes to managing an illness like depression and anxiety.
When I was first diagnosed with depression and anxiety in 2009, I ended up on leave for 14 months while we figured out the right medication cocktail for me, and while I worked with a therapist to develop and improve my cognitive and behavioural coping mechanisms. It made me more assured than ever before that everyone needs a sabbatical at some point. Not a week here or there, but a full on sabbatical where you fully unplug, explore other passions, learn something new and totally refresh and reconnect with your self and your soul.
Even when I went back to work then, I wasn't really ready. I probably could have used more, but then again, maybe they (the world) were right, and there comes a time when you have to bite the bullet. Reality was that it went as smoothly as it could. I was bored stiff with my new responsibilities, and I was definitely treated "differently" because the grounds for my lengthy absence were tainted and well known.
BUT, imagine if I'd been able to return after a real sabbatical that accounted for the goodness I was bringing back to the work environment. Imagine the goodness my family would get from me being able to unplug for a month, and for my husband to unplug for a month. Just like we once did when we were in university. Imagine if one of the benefits of working anywhere in the world; for profit or not for profit; union or not union, that you were guaranteed 1 consecutive month of holidays paid (even at a lower rate), what new fresh ideas and learned skills you could fuel your soul with. The quality time you could spend with your family, your kids, living at the pace "God" intended you to.
I could totally get behind that, and I believe whole heartedly with that kind of social structure, that you'd see a huge shift in the statistics around mental health and wellness.
I took a week of vacation last week, and to say it was busy would be an understatement. But I also closed the week feeling as refreshed as I have been in a really long time. Day 2 back into my regular routine, and I'm already feeling as gloomy and grey as the weather.
The hubby and I spent a weekend in Niagara on Lake and had a most exquisitely relaxing time. We did an incredible amount of driving, and I know that hubby was pretty tuckered out from that aspect of it, but I was cool as a cucumber and completely unplugged. I can't tell you the last time I was that relaxed. We stayed at the Three Forty Gate B&B, and soaked up the fresh fruit at breakfast and the ambiance of a really beautiful space. We hit some of our favourite vineyards (Crown Bench Estates) and some brand spanking new ones we'd never been too before (Hillebrand, Stoney Ridge, Tawse and Thirty Bench), and hit up a great little cheese place (Upper Canada Cheese Company). Ate some great meals at the Irish Harp Pub, and the Grill on King. Yeppers, that's how relaxed I was. On the Monday we picked up my daughter and my 10 year old niece and did lots of stuff, including a road trip back to Niagara to visit MarineLand which was more disappointing than even I had anticipated. You would think a place called MarineLand would have more than a 5 dolphins, 3 sea lions, a walrus, a few baluga whales, a killer whale and a carp pond. I kind of expected they'd have almost any variety of sea life you could fathom, but I was waaay wrong. They had plenty of deer and 3 bears you could feed (which someone must have forgotten to tell them were all wildly available in our Canadian wilderness and which could be just as easily fed at any rural garbage dump). I've seen more fish at the Toronto Zoo. Both the hubby and I left and talked on the way home that we could totally run that place better. This is notable only because there's not a chance in hades we'd be offering to do that, and it's the first time the hubby has shown that kind of inspiration.
After all that chaos I was just as refreshed as the day I left the B&B. Just as refreshed as you could imagine. If I had only had more time off, I could have expected at least a whole week of being refreshed and re-energized after returning to my job. The panic attacks started like clockwork at mid afternoon on day one, and I've had several more since. I've not been back to work a full 48 hours yet.
Whose with me. How do you start a movement to demand a mandatory sabbatical for all?
When I was first diagnosed with depression and anxiety in 2009, I ended up on leave for 14 months while we figured out the right medication cocktail for me, and while I worked with a therapist to develop and improve my cognitive and behavioural coping mechanisms. It made me more assured than ever before that everyone needs a sabbatical at some point. Not a week here or there, but a full on sabbatical where you fully unplug, explore other passions, learn something new and totally refresh and reconnect with your self and your soul.
Even when I went back to work then, I wasn't really ready. I probably could have used more, but then again, maybe they (the world) were right, and there comes a time when you have to bite the bullet. Reality was that it went as smoothly as it could. I was bored stiff with my new responsibilities, and I was definitely treated "differently" because the grounds for my lengthy absence were tainted and well known.
BUT, imagine if I'd been able to return after a real sabbatical that accounted for the goodness I was bringing back to the work environment. Imagine the goodness my family would get from me being able to unplug for a month, and for my husband to unplug for a month. Just like we once did when we were in university. Imagine if one of the benefits of working anywhere in the world; for profit or not for profit; union or not union, that you were guaranteed 1 consecutive month of holidays paid (even at a lower rate), what new fresh ideas and learned skills you could fuel your soul with. The quality time you could spend with your family, your kids, living at the pace "God" intended you to.
I took a week of vacation last week, and to say it was busy would be an understatement. But I also closed the week feeling as refreshed as I have been in a really long time. Day 2 back into my regular routine, and I'm already feeling as gloomy and grey as the weather.
The hubby and I spent a weekend in Niagara on Lake and had a most exquisitely relaxing time. We did an incredible amount of driving, and I know that hubby was pretty tuckered out from that aspect of it, but I was cool as a cucumber and completely unplugged. I can't tell you the last time I was that relaxed. We stayed at the Three Forty Gate B&B, and soaked up the fresh fruit at breakfast and the ambiance of a really beautiful space. We hit some of our favourite vineyards (Crown Bench Estates) and some brand spanking new ones we'd never been too before (Hillebrand, Stoney Ridge, Tawse and Thirty Bench), and hit up a great little cheese place (Upper Canada Cheese Company). Ate some great meals at the Irish Harp Pub, and the Grill on King. Yeppers, that's how relaxed I was. On the Monday we picked up my daughter and my 10 year old niece and did lots of stuff, including a road trip back to Niagara to visit MarineLand which was more disappointing than even I had anticipated. You would think a place called MarineLand would have more than a 5 dolphins, 3 sea lions, a walrus, a few baluga whales, a killer whale and a carp pond. I kind of expected they'd have almost any variety of sea life you could fathom, but I was waaay wrong. They had plenty of deer and 3 bears you could feed (which someone must have forgotten to tell them were all wildly available in our Canadian wilderness and which could be just as easily fed at any rural garbage dump). I've seen more fish at the Toronto Zoo. Both the hubby and I left and talked on the way home that we could totally run that place better. This is notable only because there's not a chance in hades we'd be offering to do that, and it's the first time the hubby has shown that kind of inspiration.
After all that chaos I was just as refreshed as the day I left the B&B. Just as refreshed as you could imagine. If I had only had more time off, I could have expected at least a whole week of being refreshed and re-energized after returning to my job. The panic attacks started like clockwork at mid afternoon on day one, and I've had several more since. I've not been back to work a full 48 hours yet.
Whose with me. How do you start a movement to demand a mandatory sabbatical for all?
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