Anatomy Of An Anxiety Attack

This blog is going to be a little different to the others, possibly a little fucked up (sorry mam), but I’m going to try and document something.

This is what happens when I’m going through an anxiety attack.

The attack came on Monday 9th May. I made notes as best I could add it was going so I could chronicle it properly for this. I’ve then been able to go back and write it out properly afterwards. I’ve tried to write it in the present tense to keep it more immediate.

It was there when I woke up over an hour ago. I felt like I was coming out of a bad dream abruptly. Did the dream trigger it? I don’t know. All I know is since I started wearing the CPAP machine for my sleep apnoea, sleep has been completely different for me. I spent so many years feeling like I wasn’t sleeping or dreaming that sleep can really throw me. Dreams, when I remember them, seem really vivid. Sometimes it takes me a while for my mind to adjust, to realise it’s not sleeping, that the dreams aren’t real.

I go to the bathroom and start to get ready. Even the simple act of getting ready seems wrong. Let’s face it, it’s a daily ritual we could all do in our sleep. This morning I feel agitated and short of breath. My brain feels disconnected to what I’m doing, everything had to be done deliberately, like I’m doing everything for the first time. Toilet. Brush teeth. Wash. Get ready. Do beard and hair. Put on my rings and wrist things. Each step feels alien, almost like I’m controlling a character in a game. I feel like a visitor in my own body.

I’m jittery and breathless by the time I’d got downstairs. I tell Sarah what was going on and she suggests going upstairs and running my tapping exercises. I say I’m going to head into work. I need to change my buses at Durham and I could make a decision there to what to do. I put my boots on (which I don’t remember doing), grab my bag and the coffee Sarah had made for me and head for the bus.

I pull up ‘White Pony’ by the Deftones on my ipod as I wait for the bus that’s running a few minutes late. I go through my normal morning routines whilst I try to focus myself into getting ready for the day. Thought the simple acts of checking my phone for email, Facebook and messages would help distract me as I work on trying to shut down the anxiety. It doesn’t. The usual steps I take aren’t working. This means the attack is a big one. I would need to do my EFT/tapping exercises. Which means I would have to stop my journey to work and go somewhere quiet.

I have to change buses in Durham. I know when I get off the first bus that I need to get somewhere quiet and get this under control as best as I can. Luckily, even though Durham is a city, it’s a small and relatively quiet one. I walk up towards the cathedral that’s situated on the top of a hill. I find a bench under a blossom tree (that’s the view I have in the photo at the to of the page), send my boss and Sarah a text to let them know what is going on, and pull up the tapping exercises on my phone.

Let me try to describe what my anxiety attack is like. I get short of breath and it feels like my heart is trying to beat it’s way out of my rib cage. My hands become restless and I feel like I need to be doing something with them as I feel like I’m constantly scratching my nose or rubbing my arm. I’ve already bitten a thumbnail down to the point it stings. My brain goes into overdrive and thoughts become random like they’re jumping around. I feel physically agitated. My forehead feels dry, like the skin is starting to crack (it isn’t). My hands shake and my jaw aches from gritting my teeth.

I bring up an app on my phone called Break Free. There’s some tapping exercises on there which involves me interacting (by tapping) to an audio track. There’s a couple on there and they last about twelve minutes each. They’re designed to focus your mind and reprogram how your brain responds to an attack. I run three consecutively. They seem to take the edge off it but it’s still there.

I receive a text from my manager telling me to take my time and possibly go get some breakfast. I go to a quiet cafe and order a latte and some granola and sit down to eat them quietly. I swap some messages with a friend, Steve, who was having anxiety attack last night. It helps to reassure me a bit, reminding me I’m not alone in having them. I promise I’ll message him later (I know he’ll worry) and quickly write some things down in my blog notes, so I can use them for writing later. By twenty to ten I’m sitting back outside the cathedral. My breathing is still feeling shallow and rapid. I’m trying to keep my left hand under control by gripping the arm of the bench tightly while I use the other hand to write things on my phone. My ipod is playing some relaxing music for me by an American band called A Light Within. I feel exhausted and tired. I don’t think the tapping exercises have worked.

Next step in my attempt to stop them, some YouTube videos. When I did my therapy sessions previously, my counsellor suggested searching online for some EFT videos. I tried a few before settling with some produced by a guy called Brad Yates. I found these to work for me in the past so I bring up a couple that I already have bookmarked, incase of an emergency like this. I run them, gently tapping away at my face and chest. I know a few people who pass me by will give me some odd looks, but it’s relatively quiet here so I don’t get too many.

I’ve been in Durham now about two and a half hours by this point. I make the decision to head home. The YouTube videos have subdued me a little but, again, it’s not by much.

I feel tired, drained and a bit deflated as I text my manager to let her know I’m heading back home. I feel the need to shut myself off for a bit, but I’m not ready to admit defeat just yet so I’ll give it a while before trying to head back in again.

I head down through Durham. It’s not too busy but I still feel like people are walking into me (they’re not). I call into a newsagents to get a bottle of water as my mouth feels dry and the woman at the front of the queue is irritating me by taking her time over something. Nothing major but enough to start winding me up about being around people.

I get back home some three and a half hours after I originally left the house. I’ve travelled around ten miles, most of it on public transport. I sit on the sofa with the curtains partially closed and feeling totally exhausted. My plan is to rest for about another hour or so before making my next decision.

I sit on the sofa, trying to resist the urge to lie down and sleep. Time goes a bit odd and before I know it it’s almost one. I’m still tired and a bit spaced out. I decide to phone my manager to say how I am. It takes me about ten minutes to actually work myself up to the state when I can call her. It’s not like I’m expecting a bad call, I’m not. Like I said she’s very sympathetic. She reminds that I’ve been doing so well recently and tells me to rest. I have a light lunch and head to bed. It’s now almost two.

In bed, I put Netflix on in the background to try to distract me. It doesn’t really work so I switch it back off. In a short while I’m sleeping lightly but getting the extra rest helps a bit.

Waking up just after five I head back downstairs. I still feel jittery and anxious but nowhere near as much as I was earlier. I still feel tired and drained of energy though.

Sarah comes in from work shortly after. Having the extra noise and someone else in the house seems to put me back on edge a bit more. I focus on my breathing and help get it back under control. She goes out for a short while with her mam which gives me time to being myself down a bit. We start making a curry from scratch, me slicing the onions and chicken. I leave Sarah to do the cooking and head back into the living room.

It’s seven thirty now. I feel a bit more relaxed but still quite withdrawn. My energy feels spent. I want to read but can’t really be bothered. I kind of feel restless for a while. 

We eat tea slightly later than usual and watch Game Of Thrones. They provide decent distractions. By the time we decide to go to bed the anxiety seems a lot more subdued. It’s not gone completely, it’s still there like static on a badly tuned radio. I’m not waiting until tomorrow to start afresh. It starts right now. I won’t let the anxiety completely beat me. My future starts now. 

If you want to talk to me, please feel free to message me at rustyred666@googlemail.com. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. I’ve also created a closed support group on Facebook, also called The Order Of The Dog. We’re a collection of sufferers of various mental illnesses as well as people who want to help and support. Please feel free to join, everything is treat with respect and confidence. Finally, please share this blog with anyone and anywhere you think it might help.

Cheers,

Scott
The Order Of The Dog.

It's A Beautiful Day But I Don't See It That Way

Depression isn't something that just appears. The symptoms manifest themselves quite early on, slowly raising their collective heads as if in acknowledgment of each other. Sometimes you can spot it in the distance heading towards you, slowly gathering speed. Other times they appear suddenly, as if by magic, glaring at you directly in your face.

Everyone is different, everyone has different triggers. I thought I'd try to explain what my signposts are, how I feel as an episode creeps in. I'm not putting them in any order, I'll just list them as they come to mind. Again, these are mine. Other people might have similar or completely different ones, but here the ones I suffer with to act as a guide.

Sleep
It can go either way for me. I can start to get sleepless nights or I'll want more and more (becoming what Sarah joking calls a greedy sleeper). It's weird as hell for me as I also suffer from extreme sleep apnoea (basically my throat muscles relax that much that they close off my throat and I stop breathing) and have to sleep with a CPAP mask on every night (not as fun as it sounds) so my sleeping schedule tends to see me needing regular sleep patterns. I don't cope well if I have a good few late nights (I'm often in bed around 10.30) and find that this can really affect my mood. I also often find that as I start a prolonged episode I'll sleep as much as I can, almost like my body is trying to catch up on missed sleep.

Socialising
The deeper I get into an episode the more I'll find myself trying to avoid being around people, including my friends and family. I'll find excuses not to go to places. Even talking to people can become a monumental task, and I don't just mean talking to strangers. Everyone. When I do talk it's quiet and mumbled, like I'm trying not to be noticed and heard. It's not really a conscious thing, it's just a sign that I'm trying to dissappear and not leave a footprint anywhere for a while. You'll find me find me in the house, generally feeling spaced out, losing track of what's happening. When I do go out I often find myself having panic attacks. Trips to the local shop become hit-and-run affairs. Leaving the house becomes a chore, having to focus myself before even stepping out of the door. At least social media provides a point of contact with the outside world but even then I'll find myself using it less and less.

Mood
Yeah, I know, it sounds pretty obvious. Like I've said, I'll become less sociable. But there's other sides. I'll become quite snappy and short tempered, not my usual laid back self. I become a real short tempered, irritable dick. Everything feels like people are having a go about something, I become unforgiving. Everything feels like an argument waiting to happen. I'm not good to be around, it's almost like subconsciously I'm trying to find reasons and excuses to push people away. The more unlikeable I become the more people won't want to be around me. Also, my mood will become quite manic. One minute I'll be giggling over the slightest little thing, the next I'll be wanting to bury my head in my hands whilst fighting back floods of tears. Talk about an emotional rollercoaster.

Self-Harm
Don't panic, I don't mean I start cutting myself. There are degrees to this although mine is at a low level, there's still signs of it. I'll find myself subconsciously scratching at myself, particularly my hands and fingers, like to trying to get at an ever present itch that just won't go away. My fingers become targets in other ways too. I'll find myself gripping at my own fingers, trying to twist then into unusual positions that just aren't comfortable as if I'm trying to break them. Shopping becomes an excuse to try and lock my fingers around the wire of a shopping basket or trolly, twisting and pulling them, channeling the discomfort I feel out through the extremities of my hands.

Being Outside
Crowds become a living embodiment of the torment my mind puts me through. I'm not keen on them at the best of times but the further I slip into depression the worse they become. There's a quote attributed to Jean-Paul Sartre that says "hell is other people" that just sums this up for me perfectly. Any kind of crowd seems to trigger a fight-or-flight response inside me that keeps me on edge. I feel like a salmon trying to swim upstream against the current. I often end up having to bail out of anything that has a crowd, and it doesn't even particularly have to be a large one either. I don't know if it's a case of feeling claustrophobic in these cases but I know most of the time I just need to get the hell out of there as quickly as I can.

There are others, but these seem to be my main ones. Everyone who suffers has their own and to different degrees. There'll be common ones, some that overlap and others that are completely unique to a person. Quite often we'll be aware of them but we won't see the signs until it's too late, until we've fallen. But other times we can recognise them and try to head things off before the black dog properly descends on us.

The title of this volume of my blog is from the song "Bad Mother" from the band Therapy? You can find a video of the song here Therapy? - Bad Mother (Live)

As usual, if you want to message me you can drop me an email at rustyred666@googlemail.com and I'll get back to you. I've created a closed support group on Facebook, also called The Order Of The Dog. It's a good place filled with other sufferers of mental illnesses and people who want to help and support others. If you would like to join us just click here. Also, please feel free to share this blog with anyone and anywhere where you think it might help.

Cheers,
Scott
The Order Of The Dog.