Therapy is a beautiful tool

Well... after my post yesterday I still had a full on anxiety/panic attack anyway. For about an hour, I was heaving and writhing on the floor... crying, shaking and twitching. Looking and feeling a mess. Wondering where the "off" switch was on my life. It was a lot going on. It was scary and difficult to control. It was hard to convince myself that I wasn't going to die in that moment and that no matter what I was dealing with or going through, that I was going to be okay.

Have you ever had a really ugly cry? I mean, snot everywhere, tears that just jump off your face... its like that but ranked up like 10x. I am emotional, and I cry easily so tears don't scare me much. But when my mind continues to unravel and I feel like there is no bottom, no way out of the madness... and my body reacts harshly to those those thoughts... that's when I become afraid. That's when I'm in full on panic mode.

After I was under control a bit, I called my therapist and asked to be squeezed in to her calendar. I knew that if I didn't see her as soon as possible, the likelihood of another panic attack was high. And there was no telling where it may happen -- the subway, the office, on the street, who knew? I then got dressed and left to go to my dr. appointment that I already had scheduled for the day. I'll discuss that in a separate post.

I like my therapist. I really do. And its because I truly value her service to my life. I know that a lot of people don't believe in therapy, or think that it isn't a necessity to their life but I know that I've been helped by my therapist so I always encourage others to give it a try when their life warrants it. I haven't seen my therapist since before I started my chemotherapy in 2008. We sat down and caught up and then tried to figure out what was bothering me... so much that I was having nightmares and panic attacks. She found it really amazing that I had not had a panic attack at all during my treatment period. For all that I have been through, a moment where the world crashes around your head doesn't seem too far fetched. But honestly, I never imagined that I would have another panic attack in my life.

After discussing all the details of the past two years, my fears and my concerns... we stumbled on what was giving me grief. Turns out, it wasn't me that I was panicking over. It was my dad. This Friday marks the second anniversary of the day he almost died from a brain aneurysm. I had not realized just how scared I was by the idea of his death. And those emotions were lost in the shuffle of my own stuff because of breast cancer.

The interesting thing about therapy for me is that its like having a good conversation with an old friend. It never feels like what I see on television -- some strange person grilling me about my life, my childhood, etc. It always feels like a talk with someone who knows me really well and wants to help me see what I'm missing. Generally speaking, I am in tune with myself emotionally. That doesn't mean that I always understand what I'm doing or what I'm feeling but I do acknowledge those feelings and allow them to come. As long as I do that, I will stay balanced and okay.

I have a lot of things on my mind -- like everyone else -- and I have to make some decisions and changes soon. But at least now I know that the likelihood of me having another panic attack is low. That is a good thing.