This is where I am.
It has been 10 months 6 days since I was apart of life. Since I was apart of the community. Since I was any further than a couple miles down the road.
It was October 16th, 2014. It was 2:20 PM. I was at work. It was a normal day. Full load of patients. Surgeon was in a good mood. New computer system was working without any glitches.
And then it started. The familiar increase in body temperature. The sweating around the scalp and small of my back. The increased heart rate. The blurred vision. The full ears. The throat constriction. The chest heaviness. The numbness in the left arm. The wild thoughts.
When I have a panic attack, my body likes to try and convince me I am having a heart attack. It is one of my greatest fears and my brain knows this and tries to use it against me. Damn brain.
One of my co-workers noticed my agitated state, and in true fashion, tried to empathize with me because her daughter had them.
I am so sorry to all those who try and show compassion, but the very last thing anyone in panic attack needs is for someone else to try and tell them about their experiences. Not. The. Time. I don’t mean to be rude, but it is true.
She also tried distracting me with pictures of cute dogs on a calendar. It was a valiant effort, but one that never works for me. But I give her credit for trying.
I grabbed my things and headed to my car. I knew if I would just down some cold water and sit in the cool AC of my car I would be able to regain my composure and go about my day. Right? I mean, this is what helped previously. Oh how wrong I was.
After sitting in my car for 20 minutes, I sent a text to my co-workers that I would not be back in. I needed to head home.
I could not get myself under control. I pulled the car out of the parking space only to pull it back in a couple spaces over. *I remember a lady walking by the parking lot and looking at me like I had lost my mind. Little did she know.* After a few more minutes, I bit the bullet and headed home.
Side note: When I have a panic attack, I tend to cause myself pain to try and “snap” myself back to reality. I am a girl and I have nice nails so I tend to scratch myself.
On the drive home, I hit 2 separate construction zones where I was the first car in line each time. I am fairly certain I gave “if looks could kill” looks to both the poor flaggers. As I sat, I continued to scratch to try to calm down.
On top of the construction, I hit every single red light. No joke. I wanted to scream. It was the longest 20-minute commute home of my life. It felt like it took hours.
By the time I got home, I had scratched myself raw on both arms, both lower legs, my stomach, and my chest. (Let’s just say, my shower the next day was quite painful.) I have still have the physical reminders.
I took a Xanax when I got home and it still took me an hour to calm down.
I tried to go into work the next day. I got to the end of our road and my anxiety kicked up and I called-in.
I have not been off our road since. Mostly sticking to our property, but trying to get out and drive occasionally so I can hopefully get back to life some day.
More later.
Keep Fighting!
Hmmm….It’s been awhile.
Embrace The Fight 
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