Life goes on

After being diagnosed with panic attacks and depression I felt relieved, at least I finally knew what was going on with me. It didn't really make anything easier but at least I had a name for the things that were happening to me. Symptoms continued and grew in diversity. Before, I used to feel short of air and sweaty and hot but until this day I've experienced tingling in my hands, feeling of terror, fear of imminent death, chest and arms pains (specially the left arm), tightness around the neck and shoulders, numbness in my face, the jaw in particular. The symptoms are so many and all are so scary, but the one that is common to all of the panic attacks I've experienced is the fear of death. Every time I get an attack I feel like I my heart is going to stop or like I am going to stop breathing.

The attacks are annoying and inconvenient themselves but what makes them worse is that they happen everywhere and anywhere: at work, at a party, in the morning, at night when I am asleep or trying to sleep. They happen on dates, job interviews and even when visiting the doctor at a hospital. I've also experienced attacks in the middle of traffic, while driving and even at home, where I feel safe. It happen when you are with friends or family but you still feel so unsafe and nervous, and scared.

For me, the biggest dilemma has been deciding whom I should tell about my condition. For obvious reasons I cannot tell every single person I know about it, some people just don't understand it, others judge me for it, like I'm guilty of it. At first, it really affected me on the work front; there were days where I couldn't go to work or had to leave early. Thankfully I am now able to handle the symptoms in a way that even if I had an attack at work, in front of the computer and with my boss talking to me, I could still stay there, under control, looking calmed, relaxed and focused. I have never told any of my bosses and only one or two people at my previous job knew about it. Where I work right now, nobody knows about it. When it comes to relationships it's a challenge, I always wondered if I should be honest from the beginning so the guy knew what he was getting into or if I should wait until things got serious. I've done it both ways but I highly recommend waiting. It never really backfired on me, being honest from the beginning but one guy was cruel enough to use it against me. I once had a boyfriend who was cheating on me and triggered all my insecurities. I knew he had somebody else but he was a good liar and I couldn't prove anything until one day, when I found someone else underwear at his place. We had a big fight and he blamed it all on my condition. He even told me to "go get checked" as in, "go to a shrink, you are crazy".

Right now I am in a committed relationship and I'm finally with someone who brings peace into my life. It wasn't easy and he even considered not getting involved because of my condition. I still have to deal with the attacks and the fact that they affect my social life, but it's harder when you involve an innocent boyfriend. He is awesome, he understands and he is patient. Sometimes I can't go out because I am too tired or shaky and anxious and he stays with me, even if he'd rather be having fun somewhere else. I am lucky I've found this guy, I just hope my condition never turns into something that's too much for him to handle.

I suffer from panic attacks

It's my dirty little secret, one that has caused me pain (both physical and emotional), embarrassment and even humiliations. This blog is all about letting it out, venting, just putting down in words what sometimes is so hard to describe. I was diagnosed around three or four years ago and it was scarier than the first panic attack I had. It all started very slowly, the symptoms were so subtle that I just couldn't imagine I was experiencing a mental disorder. First, I started experiencing hot flashes, in the middle of the day, inside my office where the AC was on. When that happened I took my jacket off and went outside to catch a breath. Oddly, I also felt that I was suffocating, short of air, but I couldn't relate one thing to the other because it didn't always happen at the same time.

I'd be desperate when that happened, I felt like I had to leave the office, the building, but I couldn't do that. I had to stay and work, pretend I was OK because, really, how would I explain what I was feeling without sounding like I had lost my mind? So many times I wanted to quit, but I couldn't afford it and my family wouldn't understand me. There was a moment where I thought that maybe I was just too stressed. My job and boss were the worst part of my day and after that I had to go to university where I was finishing my degree in Law while writing a thesis so that I could graduate. I had a lot on my plate so one day I called in sick and went for an interview at a call center. It wasn't the best I could get but it really was the fastest way out of the nightmare I had for a job.

I finally quit and started my new job as a customer service representative. It was a downgrade compared to my previous job, which was more elegant and sophisticated but I couldn't care less. I saw it as a solution to my stress problems...but I was wrong, things were about to get worse. Working at a call center requires a lot of patience, you are dealing with all kinds of people who sometimes yell at you. I was patient and kind enough to my callers but the job didn't help my condition. I started experiencing mild panic attacks at my new job; desperate and anxious were my new regular states of mind. I would get scared out of the blue, scared in a weird way, scared of nothing in particular. Sometimes I had diarrhea so I had to rush to the ladies room. It was just weird and a complete mystery to me, I thought the source of my stress was the old job! I even enjoyed providing customer service, I had new friends and a wonderful schedule!

One day, I went shopping for fabrics with my mother. When she was driving back to the house I started hyperventilating, gasping for air, I was suffocating. So far, it was the scariest moment of my life, I thought I was going to die, I was scared, panicky and crying my heart out. My mother was so scared she almost crashed the car. She was driving really fast, trying to reach the nearest ER when it all went away. I could breath again and started to calm down but still I was not feeling well. I told her, ordered her to take me home. She was scared and unsure and asked me many times if I didn't want to go to a hospital instead, but I insisted: "I just want to go home". And so we did. My mother made a phone call as soon as we got to the house, she called her friend "Anne" who apparently had shown the same symptoms I did and was diagnosed with GAD or Panic Attacks. She showed to my house with her medication and talked to me about her experience. I was still shaky, sitting on a chair, scared because I thought I was going to die in my sleep that night. She convinced me of taking two pills and going to bed and referred me to her doctor. The very next day I was diagnosed with depression and panic attacks.

To be continued...