Panic attacks are a bitch...

I did not start having panic attacks until 2010, when I received a phone call that I needed to get to the hospital to say goodbye to my Uncle. 

The depression has been a part of my life for thirty years, but the panic is only a decade old. Since then, I have gone back and forth between living in Panic City and Depression Village with stopovers in Happy Town. 

The other day, while trying to pick hotdog buns quickly because Dave was already checking out and we realized we forgot them, I lost my shit. 

It had already been a day of off and on crying, becoming one with my bed, and losing myself in mindless television.  Side note – if you are looking for some mindless entertainment, might I suggest Sweet Magnolias on Netflix.  I hope they renew it for many more seasons.  I digress, where were we?  Oh, with me losing my shit in the bread aisle at Acme.

The elephant sat on my chest, so my breathing became labored, my eyes started to leak, my vision tunneled, and I walked as quickly as I could back to Dave.  This man is a pro when it comes to my panic attacks.  He gave me one look, told me to forget about the hotdog buns, and sent me to the car for privacy while he finished up.  By the time I got outside, I was clawing at my face mask, sobbing, and pretty sure I was going to hyperventilate in the parking lot.  I was confident he would find a Katie sized puddle somewhere on the walk to the car.

Thankfully, I made it to the car; he arrived shortly after and drove us home.  It took a few more hours of oscillating between numbness, panic attacks, and full-on crying before I felt better.  

There is one thing missing from this short story of a bad day – how I helped myself feel better.

Anxiety and depression have been on an incline since the world went into shut down mode.  I spent a good portion of April, in bed, with crippling anxiety.  My patients have told me similar stories since I have returned to the office. 

These are things that I do, they may or may not work for you, and that is okay.  Maybe they will give you new ideas or inspire you to try something new.

ONE:  PERMISSION

I allowed myself to fall apart. 

I let myself feel all the feels that day.  I woke up knowing it was going to be a tough day emotionally and mentally. 

I knew that my schedule was empty, and I did not have any commitments.  So, I committed to myself. 

I crawled back into bed, snuggled my animals, turned on Netflix, and let the emotions consume me.  I told Netflix I was still there, so it would allow me to continue watching. 

I gave myself a pass – I let the dishes sit in the sink, I let the floor stay unvacuumed, I left the laundry unfolded, and I sank into the feelings.

I also give myself a deadline on falling apart – it’s usually one day, and then I have to get back into my routine.

TWO: DEEP FUCKING BREATHS

When the elephant showed up to sit on my chest, I focused on my breathing. 

I stared at a point in front of me and breathed. 

One, two, three, four, inhale;
one, two three, four, hold;
one, two, three, four, exhale;
one, two, three, four, hold;

over and over until I felt my chest relax.

THREE: RESCUE REMEDY

My favorite of all the flower essence combinations. 

I carry it around with me and keep it handy on days I need to puddle. 

I find this combo grounds me and helps me process the emotions better. 

Maybe we should talk more about flower essences? 
Next time.

FOUR: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 grounding

Five things you can see,
four things you can touch,
three things you can hear,
two things you can taste,
one thing you can smell. 

It brings you back to the present.  

The world doesn’t seem so scary when I do this.

FIVE: WALK, WALK, WALK

I dig nature and being outside.  

Putting my feet in grass or forest bathing, as the Japanese call it, soothes my soul.   

I don’t even need a forest – a long walk in my neighborhood helps me calm down.

It takes me out of my body and into the world.

SIX: WRITE THAT SHIT DOWN

During the global shut down, I started writing every day.  It helps me catch some triggers, gets out the crap I’m holding on to, and keeps me honest with myself.

Don’t want to journal?  Don’t!  How about taking a piece of paper and writing all that negative self-talk down.  Write out all the garbage that runs through your head when the depression and panic hit.  For example (and this is just mine, yours might look different):

“I am not good enough.”

“I don’t deserve anything good.”

“People don’t like me.”

“You are fat and ugly.”

“My business is going to fail.”

You know, those kinds of statements.  Mine are usually a little more descriptive, but you get the point.  Write about your trigger if you can identify it. Whatever is in your head, on repeat, write it down.

Then what, Katie?  Am I just supposed to stare at this piece of paper and absorb the negativity?

Nope, burn that shit. 

Take a lighter to it, BURN IT, and let it go. 

Please responsibly play with fire. 
Let’s not burn the house down. 

These are my basics.

These are the tried and true methods that I have been using for the last couple of decades.  Do they always work?  No, but I keep trying.  Honor yourself.  Listen to your body.  Listen to that inner voice that wants the best for you.  It’s in there, I promise, and it knows what you need. 

Let me know what you do to get through the panic and depression. 
Let’s share. 
Let’s talk about this and not hide it. 

There is no shame in having feelings.