Quote for the Day

“Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense.”

Mark Overby

New Year's Eve & The Panic Attach

I had another panic attack, and I can't believe it, because it was on New Year's eve. I was relaxed, in good company, and had no conscious worries on my mind. And yet, as I sat there with a friend, my hand begin to shake. That was followed by the shaking of other body parts, and hyperventilation. My eyes began to roll back in my head, and I struggled to regain control, but I could not. My friend asked if I was okay, and though the sound of his voice comforted me, I could not come out of the attack. He asked if I was having a panic attack or if he needed to call an ambulance. I could not answer. He asked again if I was okay. I was able to nod to him that I was. So, he calmly talked to me, held me, got a makeshift bag to help me with the hyperventilation, and held me tightly while I continued to convulse.

After it was all over, I cried because it was so humiliating, and I really thought I was done with these hideous assaults on my person. But fortunately, he was calm and understanding, and said that I would always be safe with him. He saw firsthand just how bad a panic attack can be, and yet, it was not the worst one I've had. And I wonder, will there be more, how often will they occur, and will they become worse and worse? What's causing them to come back? I'm under a lot of job stress, kid stress, financial stress, and relationship stress but who isn't? This was not the way I wanted to bring in the New Year, but I'm glad that I wasn't alone, and that the person with me was calm enough to go through it with me as much as possible and continued to tell me that it would be okay...that I would be okay.

2010. This is my year to end this thorn in my side. I refuse to let panic attacks have me again. I spent far too many years in their grasp, and it is my time to prevail now. I will do whatever it takes to end them.

Quote for the Day

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life. You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real get-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love."

Neil Gaiman

Another Day, Another Insult

I know this blog is supposed to be about anxiety, depression, OCD, and BDP, but I've spent a lot of time covering anxiety, and since I'm writing from my heart, I only write when I feel the emotion to do so. Today is one of those days. But once again, I'm writing about BPD and depression. You see, my BPD friend is so critical of me that no matter how happy I am at any given point during the day, it almost brings me to tears sometimes. And sometimes it actually does bring me to tears.

I am close to crying as I write this, but I haven't yet. Maybe afterwards -- I feel the need to put my feelings down on paper before I can allow the emotion to flow out of me physically in the form of tears.

No matter what I say, no matter what I do, he criticizes me. Today I said something about how cold it is going to be over the next couple of days, and he starts going off on me telling me that "It's wintertime, it's supposed to be cold. Shit!" Now, that makes sense, but do I really deserve to be spoken to that way? Am I that small of a human being, with so little to offer that this is the way someone should show me love? Am I so desperate that I should accept it? Not very many days ago, this same person was complaining about how they had planned on going out but changed their mind because it was simply too cold. Now, I didn't go on a tangent talking about how it's winter and he should expect it to be cold. When I brought this up today, his response was "I'm an adult and I can change my mind about going out for whatever reason I want to -- sleepy, tired, too cold, WHATEVER!!!"

I truly, deeply care for this person. But I'm so tired of being his whipping post, his dog to kick, his trash. Why can't I make him understand that I don't deserve to be spoken to like this? Why do his words have to be filled with venom and his tone so harsh and nasty? I think it's time for me to really take a look at what's wrong with me that makes me stay with a person who continues to treat me like this day after day after day. Oh, some days are wonderful, but some are so horrible, I can't even find the words to express the depth of hurt that I feel. I've hurt him with my anxiety, and I acknowledge that. He hurts me with his words. But he will say something and then swear he didn't say it -- it's just my mind playing with me.

My future is very unsure right now. I know what I want, but I also know what's not good for me. Maybe he's not good for me, and maybe I'm not good for him. Maybe, even as much as I want to be, I just can't be enough for him. And maybe, as much as he wants to be, he just can't be enough for me. Because I don't want to hurt all the time. And I don't want to feel like I'm pathetic, ruined, or less than what one's standards desire. Every time I get to this place, I just want to say, please let's just go our separate ways. I'll always love you (and I will), but I don't want to live like this anymore. I've hurt too much for too long now. Sometimes, having nothing at all is better than having something that's hurtful. I can be alone. I can be okay alone. But I cannot continue to be mistreated. My self esteem is not nearly where it should be, but I do know that I deserve better. This guys needs a crash course from Will Smith in how to treat a lady. But, for some strange reason, I think the only person he treats this way is me. The question is, why do I continue to take it. And when will I stop? If you're reading this blog today and can offer me some words of advice, please do. Because right now, I'm drained emotionally. I must be finished writing my blog because the tears are starting to flow now. May God help me, what have I done to deserve this?

Quote for the Day

“The one who loves the least, controls the relationship.”
(Dr. Robert Anthony - Self Help author)

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Once again, I'm blogging. My day started out pretty decently -- I slept a little late before going in to work, and my work day was going just fine. But my BPD friend found a way to screw it all up for me. I was on a conference call with my boss, and because I'd slept late, thereby getting to work late, I wasn't able to call my friend to say hello. When he called me (5 times back to back on my cell phone), I was talking with my boss, so I couldn't just hang up the phone or take the call. When I was free, I called him back, and he just raged on me. He complained about how selfish I am and said that I mistreated him by not answering the phone. I explained the circumstances, but it was like I'd said nothing at all. He was unphased and definitely not empathetic.

I tried calling him several times during the day after that, thinking he would ease up, but every time I called, he did the same thing -- blame me for neglecting him. I finally got so angry that I had an outburst myself and told him that I had never been more sick in my entire life than since I'd met him (which is absolutely true and I think it's from the stress of the relationship), and that I was tired of being frustrated and angry all the time. I'm verbally abused by him and I know it. A thought occurred to me tonight that he does spend time telling me how beautiful I am, and how special I am. I think he does that just to make me stay in the relationship, because he also spends plenty of time criticizing my every move -- everything I do. More than one person has noticed how much he criticizes me. And I think the reason he does that is to keep me feeling badly about myself because if I felt really good about myself, he'd have to go. So he alternates between the two, manipulating me like a professional.

I'm so torn because I feel so very badly about the circumstances in which he grew up, which were deplorable. No one should ever have to be treated the way he was. But I too grew up in difficult circumstances, though they were different. I've had problems all my life, and anxiety since I was 18. So what the hell am I doing with this person whose ultimate goal in life is to build me up and then tear me down. We're on a rollercoaster that just won't stop and let me off. I feel sorry for me and I feel sorry for him. I can't wait for the day that "me" is no longer in this "we". My life is a living nightmare. I don't know how to wake up. Sometimes I wish I wouldn't -- literally.

Quote for the day

Life is a bitch and then you die. (Unknown)

Who, What, Where, When, Why?

This weekend has been really difficult. I mean really, really difficult. I'm in a relationship with someone who is BPD. At times, he can be sweet, funny, attentive, loving -- you name it. Anything you want in a relationship, at times he can be that. But then there are those times when you realize that he's in a relationship with you because he's scared to be out of a relationship with you. He hides things (i.e., people) from you. He makes excuses for being around women that just don't make sense. He treats you like you're nothing. He says things to you that let you know he feels like you're property, not a person. He rages, gets angry, accuses you of things you haven't done, and is ever suspicious. He makes hateful statements and then seconds later, can't (or won't) remember saying them. And when you try to end the relationship because of all the pain you feel, he makes you feel guilty...no, I take that back. No one has the power to make you feel anything. They have an action and you have a reaction. My reaction is to feel sorry for him, guilty that he's hurting so much, and it makes me feel like a lowlife to let the relationship go because of all the pain he's experienced in the past? But what about my pain?

Today is one of those days when I don't care whether I live or die. The pain is too much to handle. I try to love his pain away, but I can't. No one can. And the pain inside of me continues to grow. I know that for most people, the answer is easy -- just leave. But, I think I must be an enabler or something because I can find the words to say "I'm done, and it's over," but I can't stick to it once he starts talking about his childhood and how I know he has problems and he doesn't have anybody else but me. But who do I have? Who do I turn to when I want to suck down every last pill I have and screw this world that today, I feel, has so royally screwed me. I'm caught in a cycle of love and hate. Life and death. My heart is empty and I just HURT. And I'm tired of hurting. I am not the savior of the world. I don't want to be. I just want to save ME. Because there are days when I have so much pain, I don't know who I am anymore. I'm lost inside someone else's identity. And they don't care as long as they get what they want. Who is there for me, what can I do to escape this misery, when will this end, where can I find help? Why is this happening?

Quote for the Day

“Every faculty and virtue I possess can be used as an instrument with which to worry myself.”

Mark Rutherford

No More Secrets

I've had so many panic attacks over so many years that I don't remember them all individually. But some are so horrible, that they just stick out in your mind. The very first one I had, I remember vividly and have described it in a previous blog entry. The worst ones that I tend to have come after serious emotional turmoil and unrelenting stress.

I remember going to the library one day while I was on my lunch break. I was perfectly fine, and standing in line talking to my favorite librarian. He was checking out my books and videos, and all of a sudden, I just got this sick feeling. I mean, it just really hit me hard and fast. My hand started shaking and I felt dizzy, so I put my hands on the counter and leaned over it to steady myself. The librarian continued to chatter away and I felt depersonalization starting to set in, followed by a cold sweat (if that makes any sense -- I suspect it will to those of us who suffer from anxiety/panic attacks). By that time, I looked flushed, and the librarian asked if I was okay. I told him that I wasn't feeling so well, so he came from behind the counter to help me over to a nearby chair. By that time my teeth were chattering, and I do mean loudly.

Once he had me sitting in a chair, I was in full blown panic mode. My arms and legs were violently shaking, I was thrashing about and hyperventilating, and all of a sudden I was transformed into another world. I could hear him asking me if I was okay, but it sounded like I was inside a booth or something and he was talking to me from outside of it. Several people had started to gather around me by that time. They asked if I wanted them to to call someone for me, any after many desperate tries, I finally squeaked out a request for them to call my boss so she could drive me back to work. While they went to make the call, all hell broke loose and I began to have what looked like an epileptic seizure. The paramedics were called, and they came quickly, but could not calm me down. The next thing I knew, I was in an ambulance headed to the emergency room. They gave me oxygen and told me to try to slow my breathing down. I'm not sure what else they did because I couldn't really focus on them. I was in full blown panic attack hell.

When we got to the emergency room, they called my brother and sister, who both came right away. The panic attacks would stop for a few minutes, and then the next thing you know, I would be right back into one, shaking so violently that they had to strap me down on the gurney and continue to give me oxygen. I was there for about two hours as I continued to have one after another repeatedly. They gave me a sedative, and it eventually released me from the nightmare I was in. I cried and cried. I was humiliated. I was embarrased. My secret was no longer a secret. The whole library knew, everyone at my job knew. I was damaged goods. My brother drove me home, and I went to bed and slept for the remainder of the afternoon and early evening.

When I went in to work the next day, everybody gave me that look. You know the one -- the "I'm looking at you, but I don't want you to know that I'm looking at you" look. The "Did you know she's crazy?" look. The "Boy, did you hear what happened to her yesterday?" look. I was a walking nut factory. The joke of the building. When would I explode again? Life sucked for a really long time after that one.

Quote for the Day

“The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the grandest intention.”

Pass It On

Yesterday, I had a panic attack. I was really shocked because I do still take medication for panic attacks. In fact, I take enough medication to keep them from occurring (under normal conditions anyway). But yesterday wasn’t a normal day. In fact, the last few weeks haven’t been normal. I haven’t been exercising, I haven’t been eating properly, and my sleep has been minimal at best. I am alive, therefore, I have problems.

I’m currently working a full time job after which I go to work at another full time job that I’m transitioning into. I’m in the middle of a divorce. My bills are overdue. My kids won’t even answer my home phone anymore because no one calls but creditors. My soon to be ex-husband has a six figure salary, but he’s hiding money in various places and paying his bills while I exist on a meager $18,000/year. At my last physical, my physician told me that there was a buildup of plaque in the arteries in my neck, my cholesterol was high, and that I was at increased risk for a stroke. Three weeks ago, I had the flu and was at home for several days for which I will not be paid. One week ago, my daughter had the flu and was out of school the entire week. My teenage son spent the last few days at home, suspended from school, because he had so many things bothering him (that he wouldn’t talk to anyone about) that he finally “snapped.” I spent my entire evening yesterday at a disciplinary committee meeting only to find that he was not expelled from the school (which is such a blessing), but that he had lied to me about the incidents that occurred, has been lying to me for the past two years, and he is on probation for the next two years at school. He also has to go to counseling (which I have to pay and provide transportation for). I don’t mind taking him to counseling if it will help, but I’ve taken him before over the years (to 3 different counselors for several months each) and he just sits there eye to eye with them, not uttering a word.

I have to ask myself, did I fail as a parent? I was always there for school events, homework, sports, awards days – I coached, I was room mom, I went to school for their presentations, helped with projects, and did everything I thought a mom should do. I have told my kids that I love them each and every day of their lives. I hug them constantly. So what happened? Is there something wrong with me? Am I okay? Why are so many things going so wrong in my life all at once? And then, I have to stop and realize that this is my “pain body” (read Eckhart Tolle’s “The Power of Now”) exerting its control over me. It has no control that I do not allow it to have. My job is to remember that I am not my circumstances. I have to realize that I still have a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in, eat 3 meals each and every day (in fact, losing about 15 pounds wouldn’t hurt one bit), I love my kids and they love me, and I have a wonderful, caring, supportive (though slightly dysfunctional) family. And they say what doesn’t kill you stronger. (Although I do sometimes wonder if the person who said that is still alive.)

Yes, parts of my life are terrible right now and I have to take medicine just to get to sleep at night, no matter how tired I already am. Then, in the morning, I have to drink coffee just to stay awake. But each day is a new day, and every now and then, I’m filled with hope by some little thing, some small kindness bestowed upon me by a loved one, a co-worker, or even a stranger.

Yesterday, I checked my email for the first time in a couple of weeks and there was a message from Luz. That one email message from Luz really touched my heart, and made me feel like, even if from afar, someone is thinking about me. Someone cares. And I care about Luz and everybody else who is going through difficult situations. Panic attacks, anxiety disorders, OCD, bipolar disorders, overdue bills, kid issues, health issues, health insurance issues, the loss of a loved one – the list goes on and on. So, I’m asking anybody who reads my blog today to do me a favor: do or say something nice to somebody today. Say something nice to someone every day and mean it. Make it your goal. You never know how much one small thing can do to make a difference in someone’s life. It doesn’t take much – just to know that somebody noticed you or cares enough to give you a smile when you don’t have anything but frowns inside. Thank you for the smile you gave me yesterday Luz. Hugs to you for that!!! And hugs to you too Marcy (you know who you are) because you make me smile too, and I love you for that.

Quote for the Day

“Our anxiety does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow, but only empties today of its strength”
Charles H. Spurgeon quotes (English preacher of 19th century 1834-1892)

Panic Attacks: No Respecter of Age

I haven't blogged for a while because I've had so much on my plate, I really haven't had time to, and I don't blog just for the sake of blogging. It has to come from my heart. And when I'm mentally and physically exhausted, it's just not there.

But today, I was at work, and watched as a 7th grade student was brought into the office. Her teacher was wide eyed, and the girl was crying. I had no idea what was going on, but as the teacher continued to question her about what the problem was, I heard this young 7th grader say that she was having a panic attack.

This really makes me sad. I was 18 when I had my first panic attack, and it changed my life forever. Now here's someone who is having panic attacks in the 7th grade? And apparently, it wasn't her first one. She was sent to the hospital by ambulance the first time she had one because nobody knew what was going on.

I know that all of us who are living with this disorder are facing a terrible time, but as adults and young adults, we can at least understand it a little better, even if that doesn't make us feel much better about it.

I wonder what is going on in her life, in her home, in her heart that is causing her panic attacks. Is she being molested? Is someone verbally and/or physically abusing her? Did she witness something traumatic?

When I was growing up, I never even heard of panic attacks. Now, lots of people have them. Do we ever stop to ask ourselves why this is the case? What's so wrong with our society, where we have more than we've ever had before, but we're also more stressed than we've ever been. Can we change this cycle? How do we do it? And when?

I have no answers today. Only questions and distress.