I didn't think I would get to blog again for awhile, but I am here. I miss it. Its a place where I can let my hair down and not be politically correct or worry about someone else getting their feelings hurt. This is my little corner of the world if they don't like what I have to say...leave. Plus I have missed you. I am back for now. Waiting for our house to close hopefully soon.
A few weeks ago I got a text from my sister asking me if I had anxiety or panic attacks. Which is a weird question for her because this is the sister that I have never seen cry. She is one of those girls that could possibly break a leg and keep on going. She gave birth to a 10 pound baby and my mom said she never complained or cried one second during the entire thing. I never hear her raise her voice...never hear her complain...I never thought I would ever say this, but she is the mom I've always wanted to be. We don't agree on everything (like herbs and conventional medicines) but who needs to right?
I have dealt with anxiety and panic attacks possibly my entire life. Its not something I advertise. Not something I tell a lot of people about. Not something I share. Not that I feel like its a flaw. I just feel like we are all sent here with our own little kinks and we need to learn how to live with them and share with others. Its about growing and helping each other out. That is why we are here. To love one another.
Trying to explain to someone that has never experienced an anxiety or panic attack is like trying to describe the smell of a flower to someone that doesn't have a sense of smell. Its like trying to tell a pregnant couple how their entire world is about to change when their baby arrives. Until one has one, you really have no idea. You have no idea how scary they really are until you have experienced them yourself. They are not logical. Nothing about them is. I can't tell you why I have to have a drink in the car with me when I go some where. Even if I never drink it. I can't tell you why things have to be a certain way before I go to bed at night. I can't. I just have to.
I can remember sitting in the high school bathrooms during lunch because I couldn't bare to sit in the lunchroom and sit with friends. Feeling like I was going to throw up, stop breathing and pass out if I stepped one foot into the cafeteria. Not being able to go to "parties" because it was over whelming to be around so many people I knew. Being totally scared out of my mind to go to a school dance because everyone would look at me. How about not wanting to have a baby shower because I would have to much attention on me? Sitting here thinking back to all these moments makes it hard for me to breathe. Sharing these experiences with my sister is extremely difficult because it makes me vocalize and explain in a way that will make sense to someone who is dealing with the same thing. Like I said they aren't logical.
The reason I am telling you this, is because everyone in our lives handles things differently. You don't have to understand what they are going through. You don't even need to have gone through it to be supportive.
Understanding the process, however, is EXTREAMLY important.
Telling them to "stop freaking out" doesn't help. Telling them "this isn't normal" doesn't help. Most of the time asking "what can I do to help" makes it worse...If I knew what I could do to fix it I would already. Making fun of people who have had to get medical attention for anxiety attacks makes the ones who need it not want to get help. Medicine doesn't make them weak.
I see my son having them and know right away how to handle it. He is to little to vocalize what is going on internally. His body language, facial expression, and color speaks volumes. Leaving where ever we are is the only way to make things better. Possibly talking about it later will help him understand what happened, but he may not really register it until later in life.
I love you Emily. Thank you for making me feel useful. xoxo
