You Can Call Me Saucy



Night Terror


It’s Friday! I have a lovely weekend planned and hope you all do too. I’m not going to do my typical Random Friday post today. It seems people aren’t enjoying it and it’s a lot of work for nothing. Today though, I want to touch on anxiety. Yes, again. It seems to be taking over my life as of late and writing about it is so super therapeutic for me. This post is kind of intense and hard to write. It most likely will be difficult to read as well. I attempted to write this as a stream of consciousness but that was hard to do since its been 24 hours (I did write a little yesterday but nothing I can post – yet). So, I tried anyway. Please bear with me ūüôā

Wednesday night FF & I, along with about a dozen or so friends, went to Vermont Lake Monsters game. I go to one game a year and it’s the night they have $0.25 hotdogs. Man I love me some steamed McKenzie hotdogs! I kicked FF’s ass last year and beat him by eating 9 hotdogs to his 8 (we eat them bunless for the record). This year? Poop! He ate 12!!!! And I ate a measly 5.5. Oh well, next year right?! By the 7th¬†inning we were all getting bored our team was losing 1-0 so we decided to invite everyone back to your house. We had 6-7 people come over and we just chatted, drank beers & watched The Chapelle Show. It was a ton of fun. Everyone left shortly after midnight (note: I forgot how late that is for a school night!) and FF & I began getting ready for bed. We crawled in and my sugar was low. Damn it! So I ran downstairs to make a peanut butter sandwich. Crawled back into bed all giggly and eating my sandwich. I’d had a great night! I was excited to cuddle up with FF and get at least a few hours of sleep before Thursday came around. So I finished my sandwich, turned off the light and laid down. And then?

BAM

TERROR

I could feel my body start to tense up. FF tried to get closer, you know full on spooning, but I wasn’t having it. I kept trying to sneak away from him. He was a bit buzzed and VERY tired AND had to be at work at 5am (did I mention company didn’t leave until after 12?!) So I can feel the panic coming. It starts in my chest and just radiates. My foot starts tapping, faster & faster. I don’t want him to know. I can deal with this right?

Hang on Saucy. You’ll get through this. Just wait 5 more minutes til he’s asleep. Then you can get up & pace, or sit in your reading corner, or cry on the shower floor. You can do whatever you want, just LET HIM GO TO SLEEP FIRST.

No luck. He was on to me. Before I could even think about it he was sitting up, right behind me, rubbing my back and reminding me to breathe. Constantly telling me it was ok. He’s there. Calm down. I want out of this. I want this feeling to stop. I feel like I’m headed full speed into a cement wall. I see it before me and I can’t stop myself. I keep trying to stop but I’m not in control! Just someone let me be in control!

Breath Saucy. BREATHE!

More back rubbing & slow talking.

My jaw is aching from holding back these tears. Why the fuck am I freaking out?! Why am I holding back these tears? Oh, cuz I just want this to be over. And there’s so much going on! I’m trying to breathe. Trying not to cry. Trying to convince FF to sleep. Trying to stop this stupid anxiety from RULING MY LIFE!

After what seems like an eternity (I’m told it was about 5 minutes) I lay down and let FF hold me. I drift off into the kind of sleep you can’t understand unless you’ve lived through a panic attack. I slept like the dead. But it doesn’t mean it was good sleep. It was endorphins that made me anxious in the first place and when they die down? Peaceful & wonderful…but exhausting.

I woke up sometime after 5am to kiss FF goodbye. I told him I was sorry. I felt like I was wearing a lead jacket. My body was heavy and my mind foggy. And I was full of shame. So much shame.

I tried to get more sleep but was unsuccessful. I was crying and rolling around looking for the cool spot in the bed. I called work and let my boss know I would be late. I tried again for sleep. Too bad they’re working on the siding at my condo. BANG BANG BANG. Yup, no more sleep.

I got up and called the number for my new counselor.¬† I’ve had two anxiety attacks in less than two weeks. Shit. Voicemail. Oh well. Leave a message and pray you’ll hear back. Texting FF and apologizing and letting him know I’ll be ok…eventually. I don’t know when but I’m doing all I can do stop this.

I make it to work. Everything is foggy. It’s like I have an emotional hangover. I am on the verge of tears every second. I start tweeting. I get so much virtual love (BTW – you all are AMAZING! Thank you!)

Just a few hours. You can do this. No crying. No hyperventilating. NO STRESS! Then you can go home, take a long, candlelit bath and curl up in bed with FF. He knows you’ve had a rough day and he doesn’t want your excuses. He wants you better & he’s willing to help any way he can. And the new therapist called! You get to meet next Monday. Wow, I think that was a really good, cleansing breath. Knowing there’s an appointment makes the weight from your shoulders begin to disappear.

3pm. I’m outta here. I can’t get home fast enough. Screw the bath. I just want to sit here, enveloped in love on the couch watching Season 2 of Weeds. This is nice. The world actually LOOKS brighter. I giggle & blush with all the kind words & affection. We make dinner. I decide to do some kitchen experimenting (I made a baked strawberry dish – needs some tweaking but a great start!) And now it’s 8:30 & we’re heading to bed. Movie in hand. It doesn’t take long for sleep to come.

I open my eyes. It’s Friday morning. And…I feel like me! I’m ready to thank all of those who helped me find my way out of that dark hole of despair I was in yesterday. I’m ready to talk to my new therapist. To get to know her and for her to get to know me. To discuss starting medications again. I’m ready to keep trying to gain control over my anxiety. I’m ready to embrace life!

Thanks again to all my tweeps who reached out with kind words and silliness yesterday. It was appreciated more than you know (here’s looking at you @harleykatt, @meredithblumoff & my girlcrush @geninabug)

And to FF, your patience amazes and humbles me. I always know your arms are the place I want to be in when chaos strikes inside my mind. The safety you provide me (both physically and emotionally) is what I’ve longed for my whole life but gave up on. Thank you for accepting me as¬†I am and supporting me in my trials & tribulations. Thank you for not treating me as if I’m broken or in need of repair. As I said on Twitter after last week’s anxiety attack, “There is nothing like finding a perfect partner. One that will guide you along the ledges of insanity and show you the way¬†safely back¬†down…and then kiss your forehead & tell a silly story about slippers. #ILoveMyLife” XOXO

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Comments

  1. * keely says:

    Oh girl. I feel your pain. I had panic attacks from about 9 or 10 through high school EVERY night in bed. Worst part–I just thought I was crazy and I never told a soul. Finally after seeing a tv program about panic attacks/anxiety and just knowing I wasn’t crazy was a huge relief. I tried medication for awhile–which I’m not a fan of in general BUT sometimes you need that break to remind yourself you aren’t crazy and that you ARE in control. One day, unmedicated, I used the technique of getting seriously pissed at my anxiety, either screaming out loud at it when I felt an attack coming on or in my head if in a private spot if there were people around. So that’s my advice for starters…start talking to it and get mad and telling it that it is NOT in control and you WILL conquer it! It takes time and they will evolve from frequent to rare events…now I’m in my phase of the “out of the blue” attacks every so often. They still fucking suck but getting mad at them and telling myself that I am in Control and I know how this works–that they always end–helps me get through. I’ve never read your blogs before so you might already know this, but if you are going on something long term (ex. Lexapro, which is an SSRI type of med)–know that most take up to 4 weeks to “work” and your anxiety may increase. Last time I was on this med, I almost quit before it started working because it was a baaaad month (that was 3 years ago and I needed that “break”)! Good luck and I know you can conquer this–its great you have a wonderful support system!!

    | Reply Posted 7 years, 1 month ago
    • * saucyredhead says:

      I’ve found that writing about helps so much. If not just for getting the craziness out of my head but because I’m realizing I’m not alone in this. I”ve tried Lexapro & Celexa in the past and my PCP and I discovered I have a nasty reaction (even after making it through four weeks and changing the dose to barely there). My thought is to try Ativan again just for when it gets really bad and use therapy and maybe some other techniques for the other stuff. I’m hopeful & ready to make this better! Thanks for reading & your advice!

      | Reply Posted 7 years, 1 month ago
  2. * Bob P says:

    I’m experiencing #commentfail. But I admire your courage and proactivity.

    | Reply Posted 7 years, 1 month ago


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