I wouldn't say I've been 'ignoring' the warning signs... more so benching them for when I had time to deal. When I had time - instead of making time. I haven't made much time for anything lately & I knew months ago that I wasn't doing so great. I knew because I stopped enjoying things, therefore I stopped doing much at all. I knew because I started avoiding social situations, began to find a lot of things 'too hard' & ultimately got into an eat, work, sleep, repeat routine. I thought it would work. I began to set the mini goals that have gotten increasingly smaller - make it through the week, make it through the day, make it to work, make it out of bed. Yesterday I made it out of bed & to work - but I didn't make it to the end of the day.
It has been so so long since I had a panic attack as bad as yesterday. I always have my rescue remedy spray & when I start to feel it, my chest tighten, my breathing getting short, I take a few sprays, give myself 5 & get back to it. Even lately, when the physical symptoms have been steadily getting worse, when my chest is actually aching, my hands shaking, my leg in jackhammer mode; I would take a hit of my spray, get a cuppa, splash some water on my face & all would be well.
When this started to become an hourly thing during my work day I went to the doctor who immediately set a plan in place. Thinking that it would all be okay soon, I kept plodding along. Until yesterday. The panic attack started at about 2 pm, as I was in the middle of a teleconference. As anyone with anxiety & depression will know we are so good at faking it. So good at smiling & nodding & chatting - until we are finally alone & let it all fall down. I got through the rest of my teleconference, took a hit of Rescue Remedy & 10 minutes later when instead of starting to de-escalate, I started to sweat & feel nauseous, I went to the break room which is always cooler temperature wise. I had a chat to a colleague there, again master of feigning calm. Back to my desk where physically I could barely sit still, I tried to complete very small tasks one at a time, send this email, tidy up this paperwork. Nothing helped. Panic started to breed panic & I rushed to the bathroom. Thankfully there were no unsuspecting victims in the single staff toilet when I came bursting (literally, if the walls weren't brick I may have put a hole behind the door) in. Once the tears started they wouldn't stop . It was 3.45pm by now & I was keeping track. Why had it lasted so long? Could I make it through the next hour & a quarter? No. I actually couldn't. I sucked in enough air to keep my body upright & told my manager I needed to go home. Beautiful as ever, she made me feel as though it wasn't an issue, acknowledged my puffy tear-streaked state by ensuring I was going to be okay & was there anything she could do to help. Once outside - to the horror of some bystanders I ran hunched over to my car. I dry-retched from Inala all the way to Eagleby, hot tears all but gushing down my face. As I pulled into my Mum's unit complex to find her little green car missing from the parking lot, my panic amped up another notch, if at all possible & waves of helplessness came again & again triggered by the smallest things. The bluetooth wasn't connected - why? Oh yes, Ashleigh you have already turned off the car. Idiot. Oh my god where is my bag? It's there it just tipped over under the dash in the drive. Sweet Jesus where is the phone? Why do I have so many things in here? Finally, ringing before I could even think about the consequences, Mum was on the other end of the line. Poor Mum. I couldn't keep the waver from my voice as I demanded to know where she was. I was at her house where was she? At work, you know, living her own life. She assured me she would be home soon & I could let myself inside. Still sobbing, I took a deep breath & held it as I ducked out of my extremely inconspicuous bright red car that had torn into the complex, power walked past all of the other units housing Mum's friends that I would usually stop & chat to if we crossed each others paths & shakily climbed the stairs. After I got inside I sat on the floor & continued to heave & cry. It just wouldn't stop. After what felt like an eternity Mum got home & let me fall into her arms & cry. She made me a cup of tea & we talked about what had happened. Yes there were a heap of factors that could have made this attack blow out, yes I had been to see Dr Nick I am booked in again Sunday. Good lord yes I would love a Chai & this crying won't stop so I'll take a half of a relaxant, not a quarter, thanks. 15 minutes later I was laying on the lounge, head in Mum's lap as she stroked my hair, feeling the relief of the medication slowing my body right down.
The rest of the night is a slow blur. I can remember that Jake & Char came to Mums where we had Noodle Box, I can tell you that Jake & I watched some of 'The Good Place' when we got home - I couldn't tell you how or when I transitioned from the lounge into bed. I woke up at 1:45am & haven't been to sleep since. although I have tried all of my usual sleep inducing techniques. So I made a Milo, let the dogs in & started to write. It's getting light outside now, almost time to get ready for work - just as my eyes are getting droopy, of course.
My point I suppose, is that instead of giving myself some much needed care & listening to my mental & emotional cues, I've let things get pretty bad & now I have to build back up from a very low point which I know from experience will be harder. Anyone else like me who is getting worn out & slowly declining, don't do a me, please make time for yourself. <3
