My eyes slowly open and I look around the pitch-black room. I’m in my bed, I know that much. I immediately notice I am drenched in sweat. I quickly sit up, throw my covers off and get up to change my clothes and pillowcase, and grab a new comforter out of the closet. That’s when I notice I don’t feel right. My heart starts pounding out of my chest and my hearing and vision start to go. I sit down right where I am and put my head down. I crawl over to the bedroom fan that runs all year no matter the season and I sit in front of it. Usually, I can stop the panic attack in its tracks at this point. I usually start to cool off and my deep breathing helps bring me back to my baseline. Usually, but not that night. It wasn't working and I could feel myself losing control. No! No no no! My brain starts telling my body we’re fine, but my body is like no ma'am, we are in flight or fight mode despite no real threat.
I grabbed my phone and sent a text to my sister. She has 2 small kids, age 2 and under so there is a good chance she is awake. She answers! We’re texting a bit back and forth and I think I am calming down, but then something triggers me (IDK what) and I am losing it. Completely. I start violently shaking. I shook like a leaf, especially my legs, for the next 2 hours. I was dry heaving, naked, and sweating, and that's when I yelled for my husband. I try not to wake him up unless I am desperate, and I was desperate. He immediately came over and started his calming techniques. The usual ones weren't working and I vaguely remember asking him to talk and distract me, screaming at him to be quiet! Poor guy.
I ended up pacing the house and even went out on the back deck in the 35-degree weather and rain for a while. All the while still shaking violently and nauseous and trying my best not to get sick. (the number one trigger for me). Finally, I took another Ativan and Dave turned on my music mix he made me. It took a long time, but I finally calmed down enough to nap for like an hour.
That same day was Jade’s 4th birthday party, so boy was I in for a long day. Friends and family were coming into town. I quite literally felt like I had been hit by a truck. Quick backstory, back in college following an exceptionally brutal panic attack, I could barely walk the next day. I looked it up and found out the constant clenching and unclenching of your muscles and the constant shivering/shaking makes your muscles so sore. The same thing happened yesterday. My legs and knees especially were so sore I couldn't take it. I took 2 baths in Epsom salt, loaded on water, and took Motrin. They ached all day and I also was trying to function at a level 8 anxiety. 10 was where I would have called myself the night before. It was a long, exhausting day, but ended up ok because by the evening I was at a level 5. I took another bath and made sure to take some of my relaxing, bedtime meds, and passed out right away. I slept all night and woke up at level 1 this morning.
Looking back at Friday night and morning/afternoon, that was the worst mental health episode I have had to date and it took the longest to calm me back down. At one point in the thick of it, I considered admitting myself so not to feel that level of anxiety anymore, It's terrifying to be at war with your own mind. It sucks and I wouldn't wish it on anyone.
You might be wondering what triggered this episode and I have to believe it was the stomach bug Jade came down with on Wed. night/Thursday. I have emetophobia (I wrote a blog about it, go check it out)! This situation has brought me to make the decision to find Cognitive-behavioral therapy. I cannot keep living like this and being ok for a while and then spiraling completely out of control every few months or years. I will not let this ruin my life, but I also know when I need to ask for help. This is something I can't do on my own, and so I will seek the help I need. As scary as CBT sounds, nothing can be worse than what I just went through.