Tag: anxiety attack

I have an anxiety problem

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Do you ever have a panic attack?  You know how they spiral downhill quickly if you are not like ON IT immediately?

Well, I just had one, and thought “this is like the third panic attack in 25 hours.  What if it’s really my heart?” And then started panicking WAY MORE. 

I’ve found only recently that for me, stretching my chest out (cause my chest hurts a lot in panic attacks) and doing the counting breaths in and out helps.  In 1 2 3 4, out 1 2 3 4… But I’m also not good at it. 

So I just start pacing with my chest out beating my breast bone and speed counting 1 2 3 4 1 2 3 4 1 2 3 4 like I’m trying to cast out or summon demons.  Or 11’s mom.

Just thought I’d share.

Is it the perimenopause? Because I don’t need MORE SHIT.

Stress will kill you.

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Last night, I woke up to a panic attack. You know you’re fucked up when you’re stressed out WHILE SLEEPING.

I have found a decent tool to help with panic attacks after a few decades. It’s the simple counting method. I chose 6. So beath in for a count of 6 and out for a count of 6. Repeat until not dead. Last night, I combined it with a variation on breathing into a paper bag.

I just looked it up, and breathing into a paper bag helps restore your CO2 balance which can get messed up when you hyperventilate and breath out too much. Interesting.

A panic attack mid sleep isn’t the best. You can’t lay still when you feel like you’re having a heart attack. For me, I always have to bear my chest because the first thing I feel is my chest muscles clamping down. At least you can lay in bed and cry for an anxiety attack. Husband asked why I did not wake him. You can’t hug pain out.

So I stretched sideways and upward to get my chest as wide as possible and buried my face deep in my memory foam pillow. Then I did the counted breathing. Well, it sounds like I handled it perfectly, but no. I tried the stretching and breathing and it wasn’t working. And I kept just counting but not breathing with the counting. Like just counting to 6 over and over again was a magic spell or something. Took a minute to get my wits about me and just smother myself until it eased up.

its nice that in my 40s, Ive finally found something that legitimately helps me in a panic attack.

Anxiety Attack: Give me hugs and I need a nap.

Panic attack: stretch, controlled counting breaths, maybe buy some paper bags.

Funny though, I got the counting technique from a Nintendo Switch YouTuber who struggles with anxiety. This is why we gotta share our experiences, y’all. 20 years of therapy and I’m using YouTube tips.

Anyway, Sherlock’s house is coming along!

I miss my Jack Jack

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I miss my Jack Jack. This past few days have been a new wave of sadness. I suppose it started with one day this week when I got home. You know how, when you get a new pet, you realize all the stuff you have to change? No more toilets left up, no open doors, no leaving food out — stuff like that. Well, I’m trained for Jack. So I came home and was careful not to swing open the door because he’s always right there waiting for me to open it. But… he’s not anymore. Like for that little minute I forgot he died and expected him to be behind the door.

Then, I had to read all the “The Loving Reaper” comics. Link here on WEBTOON. They’re PSA comics that are beautifully drawn and depressing AS FUCK. And a lot of them involve pets and terrible human beings, and obviously, death. So that didn’t help. I know.

Then, I went saving off old photos. This wasn’t related to Jack. We did our annual gingerbread tradition and I wanted to look at past gingerbread parties. I’ll get into it in another post — but it led me to going through all of Facebook and even back to Flickr for photos. So I also took the time to download all of these old photos (yes, you can request a zip file of every photo you’ve ever uploaded to Facebook). I saved them to my google photos for good future keeping.

LOOK AT MY SWEET BABY! Look how little he was! Those cheeks!

And here, he’s being all curious and adorable.

And I miss his little foot prints.

I just miss him so much. He loved when I’d come home and scoop him up like a baby and rub his belly and talk to him. He’d turn on that fake hamming-it up purr that sounded like a motor while I rubbed his “polka dots” (belly) and stuck my finger between his toe beans so he could squeeze it. He was such a good boy. He loved me so much. I really miss him a lot.

The past few nights (maybe 4ish?) I’ve been getting terrible anxiety at bed time. I’ll get anxiety tummy and then a tight chest.

I also started following this local cat place on Facebook and so that’s had adopting another cat on my mind. I think it’s just upsetting me though. I want JACK. I want Jack back. I want my biggun’

I’ll hide that cat page for now. I’m just upset all over again. Now I’m getting anxiety attacks every night. Ugh.

Attack of the Anxieties

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I’ve been known to have anxiety and panic attacks. I take medication for it. Valium, to be specific. One of my friends was amazed at how much valium I take, but I used to be agoraphobic, okay? I’m basically brought to you by psychiatric drugs.

Anyway, today I had a total anxiety attack. It started at work and I knew it was coming on hard so I peaced the fuck out. I teared up a bit in the car and came home to give my sweet husband the hug I needed. He asked what was wrong and I was like I just needed to hug you and the cat. And when I started blabbering the huge amalgamation of what was wrong, one thing stood out more than the rest: mom.

Last night we discussed Mr C’s work trip coming up. Well, mom always visited when Mr C went on work trips. Mom always felt like she was going to be a burden so she was insanely careful not to step on toes. However, when Mr C went away for work, she knew she would be doing me a favor by visiting. I get to spend time with her, she cooks me delicious dinners that Mr C doesn’t like (hello, meatloaf and hamburger steak and canned corned beef sandwiches), and there’s no way she could be bothering Mr C. So she always came up for his work trips. And he’s going on a work trip. And moms not coming.

Of course, Mr C told his sobbing wife that he could cancel. However, him going on a trip isn’t a problem. And of course I could ask a friend (especially K) to come stay with me — but it’s not about having to stay by myself. It’s not him being gone or me being lonely, it’s mom not being here. He’s going to go away and It’ll just be… me. Without momma. We always loved hanging out together when it was just us. Like a little vacation. No more mom. No more little vacations while Mr C is gone. No more momma.

And to make things even more awkward — the day Mr C comes back is the day his parents will be coming to spend the night — on my sweet mommas birthday. Her first birthday when she’s not here. And when I feel like I should be mourning not having my mom — or maybe making a special treat in honor of mom (hello pumpkin cream cheese muffins), I’m going to be celebrating my in laws. It’s going to feel a bit blasphemous. So is Christmas. Christmas in any form will feel blasphemous. She died on Christmas Day. This year is Christmas with the in laws. Ugh. But at some point I’m going to have to suck it up and embrace Christmas again. Just wish it wouldn’t be so soon. Mom LOVED some holidays. So not going all out for the holidays would be a disgrace to her memory.

That said, I did put up Norbert the dragon for Halloween, but I won’t be decorating the inside. I just don’t feel it. I doubt I’ll feel Christmas either.

*sigh* (again, I actually took a deep sign before I typed that).

I do have a lot of anxieties going on right now. Everything running the gauntlet of petty: what if I can’t take the pain of my tattoo and I wuss out? To what if I can’t take the stomach surgery? What if it gets infected or I get botched or I DIE? I’m interviewing for new jobs — two interviews this week. Mr C’s in a hole of despair hating his own job. Work sucks, obviously, for both of us. The lawsuit from my injury is finally coming up and we calculated that if we win the MAXIMUM we can ask, we won’t make enough to cover one of the plastic surgeries — much less a small fraction of what I lost in wages. Not even the gap in the pay cut I took for this new contract. We are not making it out well, and that’s if we win the max. Thank God the lawyer only gets paid by how much we win. And I’ve got a house guest. So I’m anxious about is the house clean enough — does the bedding smell bad? Am I too in her face? I don’t wanna be invasive.

Oh and one of the new friends that had best friend potential — yeah turns out not so much. She supports some things I just can’t look past. I’m so damn judgemental. This is why I only have three true friend peeps.

Anyway, I got out before I cried at work. I came home and hugged my sweetie (the husband, not the cat) and bawled about mom — or more accurately, the lack of mom. Then I took a nap with my cat. Now I’m cathartically writing it all out. Then I’m going to the circus. Yep. But the people kind, not the animal kind. Cheers!