The Good Ship Panic Attack

Where You’re The Only Passenger

I'm having one right now, this very minute so I'm thinking I'll write about it and feel it wash over me like a tidal wave. A bit of an "as it happened account". You look as normal as anything on the outside but inside a storm is raging and taking over body and mind. I should have known the signs were lining up for this. A very broken night's sleep, too much going on and to do, add into that a flock of sheep gone walkabout. Their plans, not mine. A perfect line of ducks all in a row. Waiting, ready to pounce without warning.

And pounced it has. A grinding feeling of anxiety and a stepping out of time. A feeling of being not quite here but not being quite there either. I think this is what they call derealisation and it's the body's way of protecting itself. An up in space sort of feeling whereas I'd rather have my feet planted firmly on the ground.

As I pitter-patter on the keyboard, it’s still there but might ever so slightly be lessening. I find it helpful to think " bring it". Thinking that, somehow helps lessen it’s power. Face it square on. Let it come and let it be and like an unwanted guest see it out.

What triggers them? Everyone who suffers them is different. With some it is a bad night's sleep and tiredness. Others, stress and too much going on. Some folk are paralysed with anxiety during a supermarket visit. I've heard many a story of abandoned trolleys where the driver has left the building. Or should I say fled the building. Stories of people being utterly unable to leave their house due to the fear it induces. For some it really is a huge hidden disability. Normal on the outside, turmoil on the inside.

And now time has passed and I'm feeling nearly back on earth. I wrote through it today because I WANTED to write something today and I also wanted to see if dissecting the panic episode into little bits as they happened would help. It did. Greatly.

And I’ve learnt something new which for me has been a small victory. Even with a storm raging inside I can still write something down. I can write the turmoil out. That too can float away like dandelions in the wind and blow away gently.

I appreciate that I'm probably one of the luckier ones with this panic attack malarkey and sadly others suffer greatly, far greater than me. Anxiety can have different levels.

But for now the sea is calm and the sun is shining.

The storm has passed today.

And I'll make the most of now.