Similar to stress is anxiety. The worry about something that may happen in the future or that has happened in the past. However, anxiety is usually based upon our imagined fears moreso than something that has actually happened. It is the eternal... "what if" question(s) that pushes us into a bad mental and physical space.
I mentioned recently that I was sick all last week. And after having a low-key but fun weekend, I thought I was ready to return to work and get back into the swing of things. But... instead, this morning as I was preparing for work... I started falling down the rabbit hole directly into an anxiety attack. I haven't had one of these in years. Until just now. (which is why I'm writing at the moment... writing calms me and brings me peace and I needed to bring myself down... before I got too far out of control)
During an anxiety attack, or a panic attack, the person literally feels as though some impending danger is rising against them -- possibly to the point of death. The escalating tension can push you so far that you start to hyper-ventilate, shake, cry... and so forth. Your body will react to the anxiety if you don't find a way to calm yourself down.
It is embarrassing to write these words. Knowing that thousands of people will read about one of my deepest shames doesn't make me happy this morning. However, in order to deal with anxiety, you have to know how to recognize when you've been triggered and you have to be able to find a way to calm yourself. Otherwise, you can end up in a really bad space. Considering how fragile I am in general, I would guess that my anxiety could easily land me back in the hospital. I'm in no hurry to sit in the emergency room, or have an ambulance come and take me away this morning. So I'm writing. I'm purging. I'm telling you what I'm going through... so hopefully I will push past this and be able to get back to a good place.
Over the weekend, I had an outrageous nightmare. It woke me out of my sleep -- which was really surprising because I was very comfortable not thinking about much when I went to bed. My nightmare was ridiculous but it scared me deeply. Caused me to get out of bed, move to another room and pull out a book to read. I couldn't close my eyes again. That nightmare stuck with me and I realized last night that my fear of it recurring kept me from falling asleep.
Those are classic signs of a problem. I haven't talked to my therapist yet. I actually haven't seen her since shortly after my diagnosis in 2008. Without talking to her (or anyone) I'm going to guess that I am probably dealing with issues of post-traumatic stress and anxiety. Writing will help me in moments like this -- when I need to do something quickly to move me from that scary place to a calm space. But it won't fully fix the problem. So, I'm going to have to do something and fast.
My breathing rate has calmed down, and my heart has stopped racing. So I will resume getting ready. I hope that none of you will think that I'm losing it because I shared this. But if I have to bear the strange looks and hushed giggles of people who think I'm losing it after all that I've been through, rather than continue to have moments of anxiety that feel so real that I think my life may be ending... I'll take the ridicule.
And give myself a chance to push beyond this next step of healing.
~Nic
PS. Have I said lately how much I truly HATE cancer? Well, I do. (sigh)
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