Friday, May 10, 2013


So today I had a crazy bad anxiety attack.  The worst I've ever had.

I generally don't know what triggers them.  Sometimes i can guess.

This is my theory for this attack:

As you may have read in my last post, 5 days of happy crappy frappy hour in a row is down right ridonk.

5 days of super high adrenaline.  Then, I hit my thumb.  CAPOW!  my already quick beating heart took a big leap, and then, my damn lizard brain thought a velociraptor or a rabid raccoon was after me and it was all I could do to keep filling milk and making sure the lids where stocked instead of dropping the pitcher and running away. 

I kept myself busy until the end of the rush, and only shed a couple tears by the garbage cans.

Then it was break time.  And break down time.  I couldn't hold it together anymore.  

I'm really lucky.  Everyone understood, and left me alone.  40 minutes later, my heart was *still racing*.  I was able to keep my breathing even, and that helped.  Concentrating o my breath.

The 'tape' in my head went something like this:

"fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.  just breathe.  dude, just breathe.  goddamnit i'm letting everyone down.  just breathe.  face it.  don't fight it.  Oh hai anxiety.  fuck I'm letting everyone down aaarrrggggg!"

and my heart just wouldn't slow down.

the worst part about anxiety attacks for me is what they look like on the out side.
They look NORMAL.  It took 20 minutes before anyone realized anything was wrong.  And only because I wiped one tear away that escaped.

Here. In the (very loose, and not nearly as good or funny) style of Allie Broch, I drew you some pictures!

This is what I *look* like when I'm having an anxiety attack.  Oh, that monster, its what's scaring me, it's *why* I'm freaking out.  but on the inside *next slide please*

This is how I *feel*  my heart is pounding out of my chest and I'm scared shitless.  (no spell check, I don't mean shirtless)

Today was so bad I couldn't talk my self out of it.  I think that is when meds might help.

One thing I think I should have done was take a walk.  I didn't want to leave work though.  And, I've also stolen The Bloggess' phrase, but different.  Anxiety Lies.  (she says Depression Lies, and that's true too)

So really, I did all I could do.  My manager was awesome, and so where my co-workers who where supposed to have me for another 1.5 hours. 

I came home, and had a lavender bath.  Preceded first with hugs from J natch.

It ended.  Like it always does.  And always will.

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