A Day with Anxiety part 2

We make it to the hospital, but I’m freaking out a bit since I don’t know whether I can walk to the door or not, but I don’t want to have to use a wheelchair because that’d mean something major was wrong.

I check in, and I feel a bit calmer. At some point in my packing to leave, I began chewing on a piece of gum and can no longer distinguish between the numbness and the minty tingle on my tongue.

I haven’t been to the hospital since my artery dissection and small stroke fall out from the injury almost 2 years ago.

The heart palpitations started after I get triaged. Those are a daily occurrence, so it’s more of an inconvience than anything else, and I feel a bit better. Still dizzy, but calm. If I have a stroke here, at least my chances are good.

I spend an hour in the waiting area. The hubs is being a trooper even though I’m ruining his plans by making him sit with me through all of this. My anxiety claims just as many of his days as mine.

Everything is fine until I notice a man come in with a trash bag. He’s a loud puker. When it hits me that that’s what the bag is full of, my body freaks the hell out. I go up to registration because I can’t sit still. I’ve got one finger in my ear to block out the man while I ask the lady as politely as I could about when I’d be getting back. 

Apparently, I’m next, but my fingers and toes are tingling again and there’s a ringing in my ears. I use the bathroom … again. When I come back out, the man has somehow gotten louder and another woman is wheeled in with a puke catcher in her lap. I fall to my chair, pretty positive I’m going to pass out now. The hubs is trying to keep me calm, but he’s got his own issues with hospitals, so we’re a real pair.

It seems a better option to just go home and if a stroke comes on … well I tried.

Instead, I’m called back. Once away from the puking man and the lady with the bucket, I’m exhausted. I tell the doctors about my symptoms, we go through the stroke tests, I get a CT scan, and I spend six hours waiting around for tests and results. But it’s not too bad most of the time. Having two panic episodes in one day takes the fight out of me. I’m not anxious anymore. Just tired and hungry.

The results come back negative for any artery dissections or stroke. I'm thrilled. I really didn't want to relive that experience. 

When I get home, I eat a bowl of soup and pass out, completely ignoring the dizziness that comes with lying down, and sleep for 11 hours.

After all that, I have to admit, it wasn’t that bad of an anxiety day. Maybe a 5 out of 10 on the type of panic-y days I can have. Most my anxiety revolves around my health, so as long as I’m feeling good, I don’t really have a problem at all.

It’s obviously a lot worse for some people, but I wanted to share my day with people who maybe don’t understand. I know a lot of my reactions are blown out of proportion, seem extreme, and crazy, but when I’m in the midst of my anxiety, logical thought is impossible. My sole concentration is on feeling better and panic ensues when that doesn’t immediately happen.

It’s exhausting. Anxiety is exhausting.

A good resource for learning more about mental illnesses is the National Institute of Mental Health.

A Day with Anxiety part 1

Before I even open my eyes, I feel off balance, like someone has kidnapped me in the middle of the night and left me on a boat to die. I don’t want to open my eyes because if the dizziness doesn’t go away, it’s going to be one of those days.

I take stock of everything I’m feeling, testing if it gets worse when I move my head—it does—moving my jaw around and noticing the stuffy, crinkly pressure in my ear.

God, I love fall and all its weather changes that heighten my vertigo and turn me into an anxious hermit on the brink of panic until my body adjusts.

I finally open my eyes and the dizziness doesn’t stop. My fingertips start to tingle, and I start to sweat. I sit up because I need to do something to get everything to focus before I fall over the panic edge.

I begin the body analysis, noticing how once I focus my eyes on something, my head adjusts and the spinning is gone. I know this feeling; vertigo is an old friend. I’m not going to die, nor pass out, nor is this a stroke.

I get out of bed, flex my fingers, continue the ‘I’m fine’ mantra through breakfast and every time I move my head and have to repeat the focus process.

I wanted to go shopping today. I’d wanted to maybe get a coffee too.

That’s not going to happen anymore. The thought of walking through the mall with this dizziness makes my stomach flip.

I don’t get out of my pajamas. I play Skyrim for a few hours because it takes my mind off everything, and I’m calm.

But now I feel useless. It’s Tuesday and I’m wasting it away on a video game. I think maybe a bath will help. 

I settle in, ignoring the heightened dizziness of lying down, and read a book in the warm water.

A phone call from my mom pulls me out of my daze. I sit up quickly to answer and immediately regret that impulse. The room starts spinning, but I concentrate on my mom’s voice, talking with her about the cats in the backyard while my balance equalizes.

Suddenly, my tongue feels like it’s fallen asleep. And it’s all I can think about. Why is my tongue numb? Has this ever happened before? Yes. But this isn’t a stroke. I can still see and there’s no headache. But what if this means another one is coming? Should I go to the hospital? It kind of feels like I may throw up.

My mom’s voice breaks through, but I tell her I have to go, not waiting to give a proper goodbye.

I rush around the house, trying to get dressed. I tell the hubs I need to go to the hospital, but I’m silent after that. I can’t process conversation right now. I’m just trying to get dressed without passing out or throwing up.

I go to the bathroom three times in fifteen minutes before I get everything together to go. One of the more lovelier side effects of my panic attacks is the body release. It’s all kinds of pleasant.

Tomorrow comes part 2 at the hospital. 

To learn more about my experience with anxiety, go here to read about my first panic attack story and here for my battles with OCD.