I could be doing anything, anywhere and then bam! Panic attack. It comes out of no where, sneaks up on me when I least expect it. And every single time it strikes, it leaves me feeling helpless, like I’m literally going to have a heart attack and die. In all honesty, it’s the worst feeling in the entire world. As I’m desperately trying to trick my mind into thinking that it’s going through nothing more than a freak-out episode, I can’t help but think of death. Like a lot of people out there, my biggest fear is death and leaving those I love behind. Yes, I might be sounding a tad bit dark here, but it’s a fact. When your heart feels like it’s going to explode out of your chest and your breathing become irregular, you’re forced to think about the things you avoid thinking of on a daily basis.
Having a full blown panic attack makes me feel like I’m no longer in control of myself, weak and fragile. Afterwards, there’s a terrible sense of being ashamed of myself, like there’s something wrong with me. Following that, there’s the paranoia of what others may think after having seen me nearly fall to pieces. When I’m having one of my attacks, I can’t determine which is worse: going through it alone with no one there to calm me or to have someone there with me, only to feel humiliated afterwards. It’s a real catch 22.
So that about wraps up my self-therapeutic blog. I could go further into detail about panic attacks, but I think I’ll save it for a rainy day. Until then...I guess I'll just need to take a chill pill. Literally.
Having a full blown panic attack makes me feel like I’m no longer in control of myself, weak and fragile. Afterwards, there’s a terrible sense of being ashamed of myself, like there’s something wrong with me. Following that, there’s the paranoia of what others may think after having seen me nearly fall to pieces. When I’m having one of my attacks, I can’t determine which is worse: going through it alone with no one there to calm me or to have someone there with me, only to feel humiliated afterwards. It’s a real catch 22.
So that about wraps up my self-therapeutic blog. I could go further into detail about panic attacks, but I think I’ll save it for a rainy day. Until then...I guess I'll just need to take a chill pill. Literally.
