Fear – Enough is Enough

I am by nature a highly sensitive person. Feeling emotions strongly.  Expressing them intensely.  Yelling and cursing.  Sobbing and lamenting.  I never seem to feel exaggerated positive emotions however. Mostly anger and fear, which are really the same thing. And sadness.

The anxiety. Panic attacks – the return of them is new, recent, worrisome.  Two in December (one in church and one in bakery.) And one in January in the grocery store. It’s another emotion that has become out of control. 

I have a hard time holding in the expressing of these emotions, especially the anger. Little impulse control. I blame the bipolar disorder.  This all has been going on since October now.  Four months. 

I give into the crying completely. It mostly comes from fear as well. Fear of losing relationships. Happens after fighting with husband or daughter. Fear of abandonment. 

Anxiety – fear.  Crying – fear.  Anger – fear.  Why is my life run by fear and how can I get rid of it?

Something keeps telling me to go back to counseling, but I’m so hesitant. Fear. Fear it won’t help. Fear I don’t really need it. Fear of not finding the right therapist and me wasting my money. Fear it will be a waste of time because things will just get better on their own. Fear that all I need is a medication adjustment. 

Mostly fear it won’t help or that it’s not needed. That I’m making a big deal out of nothing.

I’m invalidating myself. I see that. I hear it. 

I have a lot of fear. That is just a fact. It is causing me excessive anxiety, panic attacks, anger, sadness, and crying spells.

I will tell my doctor about it next week and get her opinion on what to do. It’s insane for me to suffer with these symptoms without trying to do something to get rid of them.  

Enough is enough.

Worst Panic Attack Ever

Last weekend I was at a crowded sports tournament for 10 hours then came home and went to a crowded grocery store with my husband.  By the time we got to the last isle my panic attack started. Racing heart. Difficulty breathing. Tunnel vision.

People were flying by me with carts every where. I felt like I couldn’t stay out of the way. I thought I was going to die. I smashed my self up against the freezer case, face first, and I think, closed my eyes even. I must have looked like a lunatic. 

By the time we checked out, bagged up, and got out into the parking lot I felt as though I wasn’t breathing at all and my vision started to black over. I felt my eyes close and my feet cross over one another as I was walking toward the car.  I leaned to the right and caught my balance. 

I forced my eyes open and again blackness came over and then I felt my legs give out on me. I went down, felt my right hip hit the concrete and my head hit a parked car. I don’t remember anything for a minute until I hear my husband’s voice calling my name, trying to lift me up under the armpits to help me stand and telling me to get into the car. 

I don’t know if I lost consciousness or not. I didn’t on the way down. But after I hit my head, I’m not sure.  I didn’t hit it hard. There wasn’t a bump or anything and I didn’t even get a head ache. 

It upset me a lot. I’ve never fallen during a panic attack or lost my vision completely. I’ll tell my doctor this month when I see her and see what she says. I don’t like that these are returning. I could have really hurt myself. 

Daughter Depression 

It keeps getting worse. It’s getting to the point like it was last year where the irritability and agitation are so bad that we are starting to fight because she is being disrespectful and rude.

I understand it is her depression talking, but she still needs to be held accountable for her actions. She can’t treat us all like shit in the meantime.

I’m constantly being pulled in two directions of compassion and frustration. Leniency and discipline. Anger and empathy. It is all driving me insane. My anxiety is through the roof.  My instincts are non-existent. I don’t know what to do, how to respond, or deal with this half of the time.

I’m scared of how bad it may get. I always have the fear of her hurting herself. I am in anguish watching her suffer and not being able to make her feel better.

It is going on 3 weeks now and this past week has gotten worse. We see the doctor soon. At least she still wants to socialize with friends. I think that is a good sign. 

One Less Thing

I had a great report from the kidney doctor yesterday.  My creatinine went from 1.42 to 1.19; my GFR went from 41 to 56, which bumped me up from stage 3 to stage 2. He said the kidney disease was NOT progressive, and as long as I stay away from Alleve, Ibuprofen, and contrast dyes no further damage should occur outside of the normal aging process, because I have no active risk factors. 

I am estactic. Beyond relieved. One less thing to worry about and deal with. Now, just back to my normal crap with the mental illnesses and migraines. 

The migraines, ugh! , have increased this month, I guess due to the decreased propranolol. I am still having dizzy spells even though my blood pressure went up ten points since being on the lower dose of 80mg. BP was 110/80 yesterday instead of 100/70.

I drank a Mountain Dew with my Imitrex this week and had minimal side effects from the medicine. It was incredible!  I’m hoping it wasn’t a fluke.  I know caffeine helps because I’ve tried coffee before, but this was amazing. 

My daughter is struggling again. Anger, irritability, decreased motivation, not wanting to go to school. She refuses to use the light box even though I think it helped before. She thinks it is stupid and doesn’t do anything. She’s being a closed-minded teenager.

I think if we can just get through the rest of the cold, dreary winter days she will be better. In the meantime, it may be rough around here.

She sees the new psychiatrist in a few weeks, who we just told this month that she was doing so well. How quickly things can change!  She’s been acting like this for going on 2 weeks now, so I don’t think it’s like a PMS thing or anything.

I was thinking about how my anxiety has been better lately. I think. I mean I worry about stuff and I have panic attacks here and there, but I don’t feel like I am suffering all of the time because of it.

Everytime I start to get anxious it is usually about our busy schedule and how many things I have to do outside of the house in the week ahead. When that happens, I try to put it out of my mind and just think about today only.  This helps a lot. 

It helps to write all of this out, too. I’m just in a really good place because of my doctor’s visit yesterday. Hoping it lasts. 

The Devil’s Artwork

I never expected to be chronically ill this early in life. I still have school age children, active in sports and many other things.

I have a vibrant marriage, filled love and friendship like no other. I want or need for nothing. Except good health. 

I’m in physical pain almost daily. The days I feel well are refreshing and freeing. They jump out at me and grab my attention like a fierce hug from a long lost friend, because they are so few and far between. 

I remind myself that I am not the only one in this world with pain, in pain. I’m in far less than many. More than others.

Comparing is a fool’s game, however.  I must give myself the dignity to validate my own experience regardless of its relevance to anyone else’s. I have to allow myself this selfishness. This self – love.  

Sometimes it turns into self pity and anger, and I want to pound my fist into the ground until my knuckles are dust mixed with blood and bone.

Or I want to slice my throat just to get the long, drawn out, inevitable process the fuck over with already!

But, I don’t, and I won’t.  It’s not for me to do to my family. To my children. To their minds.

I go to each doctor’s appointment, and I take their advice.  I do what I am told and I stay the same or get worse and then maybe better, and then back again. A pendulum that always comes to rest back at center.

Chronic illness is the devil’s artwork tattooed on my cells. My organs scream for the touch of God. Will I ever see His face?


The tournament weekend went really well for me.  I stayed in the room Friday night and rested. Socialized Saturday and Sunday.  Handled the convention center crowds like a normal person without the need for a Ativan all weekend until the last morning when we had to pack up and check out before the last day of play. Irritability and agitation set in out of the blue and came on so fast. Luckily the med works quickly to calm my system down. 

Not surprisingly, I had a severe migraine the day after we got back (yesterday).  Today I still feel worn down and depressed. Little things, like showering, unloading the dishwasher, and sweeping the floor, feel like big things. 

This is my third migraine so far this month. I had two in November and three in December. Better than six or eight like I was averaging for the last year. I hope I am done for the month so I can report 2-3 to my doctor and see where he thinks we can go from here; if he even thinks zero is a realistic goal.