Panic Room

My dreams are getting stranger. The latest one involved snow and a ferret. I have yet to look up what they might possibly mean and I’m kind of afraid to find out. I don’t think the tux references I had last night are such a big thing because I just came off my second wedding weekend in a row and tuxes have played a pivotal role for me. But that’s neither here nor there.

My anxiety attacks are picking up a little. My standard “As Soon As I Wake Up” attack isn’t going anywhere any time soon, that’s for damn sure. And if I don’t catch those quickly enough and get myself together, it sets the tone for the whole day. I hate when that happens. However, they are starting to hit me at completely random moments now and I’m not happy about it. Here’s what usually happens:

My mind spirals at warp speed into, ‘How the hell am I going to afford to do this?” You see, I don’t have much money saved up. I spent much of the last six years severely paying off loans and debt, which is a good thing – cut it by 25% in 2 years alone. Anything I did save went in to the purchase of my condo and I’ve been trying to scrape together some funds to help finance this jump ever since. But back to the lesson at hand.

Soon, images of heavy drinking, me rocking in the corner wearing nothing but my boxers, horrible foreclosure, repo, and panhandling enter my mind. (This typically transpires in a matter of 4 seconds) Once all of that is securely lodged in my mind, and the accompanying feeling of fear and despair have taken up residence in my abdomen, my body reminds itself to breathe. During all of the horrible visualizing, my lungs temporarily shut down while the anxiety sets in. It’s as if fear and oxygen can’t enter the body at the same time. The emergency generator of my lungs kicks in and fresh oxygen (as fresh as it can be in Chicago) filters in, but only at the most basic levels to sustain the system. It’s not like I’m taking deep, soothing, calming breaths; just enough to get something in there while I continue down this path of hell.

My mind is full of horribly negative scenarios, fear and despair are having a ball in my guts, my breathing is as shallow as a puddle and then my hearing goes. If you are talking to me while I have an anxiety attack, you can bet I will have zero recollection of it if I ever pull out of this spin. Yep, now is the time to tell me everything you do not like about me because I have no way of comprehending what is going on.

And speaking of spinning, that’s what the world around me starts to do for about five seconds. And here is where I have learned to make a conscious break and bring the madness to a halt. It hasn’t always been this way, I’ve had to teach myself this little drill. I close my eyes and start taking those deep, calming breaths that easily escaped me earlier in the episode and slowly gather my wits. This goes on for about as long as my anxiety fit did and I gather myself and move on.

It’s not pretty and it’s not always that dramatic. I’m getting better at catching all of this early and stomping it out until the next one. This used to happen to me in college when I was afraid of my future, my choice of major – basically life – and had really gone away while I blissfully toiled at my secure job. I suppose this is all necessary prologue to the actual jump itself. Good grief.