I, like thousands, maybe even millions of people, suffer from panic attacks. They started for me when I was 29 after a horrible year where I lost my step-father, a baby, and my mother all within 6 months of each other. The first time I had one, I was exercising. I was walking along Sheridan Road in Wilmette, IL, listening to music and probably about a mile from home. All of a sudden I couldn't see anything. The world went black. I got very cold and my heart rate jumped to an alarming rate. I stood there and calmly waited until I could see again and walked home. I didn't think anything of it. Thought maybe I was exercising too hard.
I didn't have another one for a couple of weeks. That one happened while I was in the bathroom. My scalp got all tingly and then all of a sudden, up goes the heart rate again. I literally thought I was having a heart attack. This only made things worse and I started to cry. I called a friend of mine over and she thought maybe my boyfriend at the time had done something horrible. I said, "no, I just seem to be out of control." So she took me over to my doctor's office. My doctor wasn't in, but I saw a colleague of his who said that it was a classic panic attack. She prescribed a small sample of Paxil. I went home, took the Paxil, and immediately, the veins in my wrist started bulging, as if to say "cut me here!" I called my boyfriend and he talked to me until the feeling went away. Well after 2 days on Paxil, I did not feel any better and now could not leave my house. I was "panicking" every 2 hours or so. I could still get up and feed the cats, but even the thought of opening the door to get the mail was too much.
I was sent to a psychologist who prescribed a different anti-depressant. I went home, took one half of one pill...and immediately vomited like I hadn't done for days. I decided pills were not for me. I let the panic attacks go on for about 3 months. I would lay in bed at night and look out the window at the fire station across the street, waiting for the moment when I would call the paramedics. I managed to get myself to the grocery store, but sometimes would have to leave a cart full of groceries because I was sure I was going to pass out. I went blind while driving once, which was not good, but I simply pulled over and waited until I could see again and drove home. I felt best in my bed, in my home, but realized that this was no way to live. I went to the hospital a couple of times, but was sent home and told I was fine.
My friend who had originally taken me to see the doctor, thought maybe it was because I was about to turn 30. I didn't think that was such a big deal. She suggested her psychologist and I made an appointment to see Charlie. I drove there in tears, I spent the entire hour with him in tears. I was going to London to celebrate my 30th birthday in about a week so he suggested I come see him every day until then. He truly helped me. I just needed to talk about everything that had happened and it made me feel better. I was still having the attacks, but they weren't as strong and I could get out of the house.
I made it to London, although I spent the entire flight over there, dry heaving in the lavatory. I was able to do some things in London but sometimes felt that I had to get back to the hotel, and had a couple of nights where I was wondering what the hospitals in London were like.
When I got home, I saw Charlie, once a week for the next 6 months. I could now go for weeks at a time without a panic attack. But I still had them. I remember one particularly bad one where I was driving back from Wisconsin and kept thinking at every exit, "I don't want to die in a McDonald's bathroom."
I still suffer from panic attacks. They are not as bad as they were, and I can go months without having one. The funny thing is that when I have one, and I'm not afraid to tell someone when it's happening, is that without a doubt everyone asks "Why?" Well, now, that's a silly question. If I knew WHY I was having the panic attack I could stop it. I simply tell them that very thing, and tell them to just keep talking to me or to let me walk around and I will be fine. I had one at work today, my left arm went numb and my chest hurt, but I simply told myself I was ok and if I passed out, so what? I still, to this day, have never passed out.
Panic attacks are scary. I don't recommend them to anyone and if you haven't had one, I'm not sure I can describe it. For me, it feels like my throat is closing up and that my heart is going to explode it is beating so fast. I also feel like I can't breathe, although I am able to take long, deep breaths. They are also scary because I never know when they are coming. I had one a couple of days ago in bed as I was falling asleep. I know, sounds like I should be relaxed at that time, but apparently not. That's why these are so damn scary and down right annoying.
Now, I don't have anything against anti-depressants or anti-anxiety medication. They simply did not work for me. I figured they were masking the problem and that I had to deal with my problem head on.
I have found that what works for me is talking to someone. When I talk to someone, I simply want them to talk about whatever they want. NOT about the panic attack itself, and definitely not to ask me "WHY?" When I don't have someone to talk to, I have a very wonderful nurse cat, who follows me around until I decide to settle down someplace and then he places his big black paw on my hand and lets me pet him until I fall asleep.
So if you meet me someday and I happen to have a panic attack, please don't ask me "WHY?" Simply tell me about your day, because I can guarantee its going a lot better than mine.
