Yesterday, my anxiety was spiking pretty severely. Everything started to get brighter and louder and more intense, and I opted to flee to my bedroom to hide out. I’m not one to spend time in my bedroom besides sleeping, but everything felt like it was getting on top of me. I picked up my book and read for a few minutes, and satisfied that I was feeling calmer, wandered back through to continue working through my blogs.
So of course, the second I sat down and started pecking out words, the intense pressure resumed. It wasn’t more than a minute or two before I fled again, this time with my netbook in tow (if I don’t spend time hanging out in my bedroom, I doubly do not spend time hanging out in there with a computer). I ended up having to immediately flee to the lounge because my kiddo needed the bedroom, but then my husband rounded her up and took her somewhere else, leaving me in relative silence.
It didn’t occur to me until a few hours later, but I had narrowly avoided a panic/anxiety attack. I am fortunate in that I rarely have them; the last one was quite possibly over a year ago now. They’re so infrequent that I forgot what the deal is until the sensation of heart attack starts thumping in my breast… not that it passing ‘quickly’ ever made me feel any better. But all the signs were pointing in the right direction, and it would have taken very little additional anxiety to tip it over.
Having said that, I suspect one might get me today. Already, my heart is racing and there is absolutely nothing going on to trigger it. But as those of you who also have anxiety or bipolar issues know, the act of your body being in such an elevated state is incredibly taxing; it leaves very little in the way of spoons for fending off subsequent onslaughts. So cross your fingers for me that I’ll make it through today and that tomorrow will be less jagged, and I’ll cross my fingers for you guys out there. Deal? Deal!