It all started when I was a kid. I worried a LOT. About tiny little things. I would often feel sick on my stomach, or have a hard time enjoying things. I loved my life, and my family, but something just didn't feel right. It was so bad sometimes that I remember having trouble falling asleep the night before holidays or big occasions, because I was afraid I'd die in my sleep. My mom was really worried about me. I remember her talking to my dad and asking if I should be seen by our pastor. And now I know, all those years I was struggling with anxiety. But I didn't even know what anxiety was. And back in the 80s and 90s, such things were taboo, and kept hush hush. People still didn't understand a lot about mental health issues. If I had been a kid today, I think I would have gotten a lot more help. I'm not blaming my parents, they didn't know. But I'm urging anyone who thinks their child may be dealing with excess worry or sadness, to have it checked out.
Fast forward to my adult life, in my early-mid 20s. I had always wanted to be a Mom, and was thrilled when I found out I was expecting Brooke. We got a huge surprise when I found out just 3 months after Brooke was born, that I was pregnant again with Caleb. I was NOT ready for that. And I feel guilty even saying this, but I was not happy at all. I did not want to be pregnant. I remember being worried about finances, my health, Brooke having enough attention, my marriage, and selfishly, my body. A few months in, we had a miscarriage scare, but Caleb was ok. After that, I realized he was a gift, and I was very thankful and happy to be carrying him. To this day I think God was trying to get my attention and show me that I should be grateful for this life, and I realized after I almost lost him how much I wanted him. Anyway, my point here is that I was suffering from prenatal depression. You usually hear about postpartum depression, but having depression DURING pregnancy is a thing, too. I had it, and I got through it. And now I know that for me, certain events in my life are more likely to trigger periods of bad depression for me.
Fast forward again to 2009, after I had Rachel. A lot of you already know the story, but I had a blood clot after having my C-section with Rachel, it spread to my lungs and almost killed me. I was in the hospital for over a week. As you can imagine, this triggered my anxiety, and this time worse than I had EVER experienced. I had my very first panic attack in that hospital. I remember my heart started racing, I felt sort of disoriented, and I buzzed the nurses saying I thought something was wrong. I 100 percent believed I was dying. I remember thinking how sad I was that I wouldn't get to say goodbye to my babies. Of course, I wasn't dying, and I ended up figuring out what It was. I then realized how real and terrifying panic attacks are. After getting out of the hospital, everything that happened seem to hit me all at once. I was on heavy pain meds in the hospital and I wasn't able to really process what had happened until after I got out. I sort of experienced a form of PTSD. I started having panic attacks often at home. Things got so bad that for about a week or two, both my mother and mother in law stayed at my house while Arnold worked, to take care of me and the kids. I was helpless. I went to my family dr and he prescribed me all kinds of medicine. Ativan to take for the panic attacks. A pill to help me sleep. Things started getting a little more real and it was just an insane time of life. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I was eventually diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder. It was added to my medical records.
Fast forward again to 2011. I have always had experiences in my life where I felt down, or extra tired, or unmotivated. I know now that long with anxiety, I have also had depression. I had never had a major episode, until this time. I had surgery for my gallbladder to come out that summer, and after coming home and recovering, I started to feel really sad. I thought maybe I was reacting to the anesthesia, so I went back to talk to the dr. He said it shouldnt still be affecting me. Things continued to get worse. I was sad, unmotivated to do anything, tired all the time, and felt like a little cloud was over me all the time. I even slept through my birthday that year, and everyone knows how much I love my birthday. After awhile I headed back to the dr, and this is when I was officially diagnosed with depression. The dr put me on Cymbalta, which can be used as an antidepressant, and after a few weeks I started feeling better. It was like the skies had parted, I felt happy and energetic again, and was enjoying life. I also started seeing a Christian therapist. She helped me understand so much about anxiety and depression, and made me feel more normal. She talked me through my issues and gave me things to try and tips for overcoming bad days or panic attacks. Talking to her on a regular basis really helped.
So that's my back story. We are now in 2020 and I am still on Cymbalta regularly, and I have since been added Zoloft. I was able to wean myself off Ativan a long time ago, which I was so proud of myself for. I didn't want to be taking that long-term. If Im honest with myself, theres a very good change I may be on these meds the rest of my life, and you know what? Thats ok. People get helps for medical issues all the time, and mental health should be no different. Diabetics take daily medicine. So do people dealing with high blood pressure or high cholesterol. The medicine is there to help keep them healthy and to improve their life. The same is happening with my medicines I take. I used to feel embarassed, and weird, since I had to take medicine just to get through the day. But now I've learned so much, and I know that depression and anxiety are common in people who have different wiring in their brains, and/or lower than normal levels of certain hormones, like serotonin. It's not my fault I am like this. And I also know medicine is not a cure all. I still have bad days. I still need to talk to a trusted person, and to exercise, and stay strong in my faith. But I am no longer ashamed I take medicine.
I thought I would offer a little advice on how to overcome panic attacks for anyone else who deals with this. I have had PLENTY of experience, so I have learned a lot. The main things that help me are 1. Movement, 2. Wide open spaces, 3. Cold/Shock to system. My therapist said that one of the best things to do when panicking is to MOVE. I get panic attacks most often in the middle of the night, so I always hop out of bed and start walking around. Something about being outside, in a wide open space helps, too. I often walk outside, and just stand in the driveway and stare up at the sky. And eventually I start to calm down. And another thing that helps is a shock to the system. This usually means something cold. I have taken an icepack or icecube and rubbed it all over my neck. Or sprayed cold water in my face. When your body is shocked by the cold, it is hard to focus on the anxiety. But the main point is panic attacks are SCARY! For me, I always start feeling my heart speed up, my body gets all tingly all over, I feel a sense of "doom" or that something is wrong, and then I start to breathe really fast, and sometimes I hyperventilate. Sometimes during the bad ones, I feel lightheaded and like Im about to pass out. I have legitimely thought I was dying on more than one occasion. Its gotten a lot better over time, and now I just remind myself that i am ok, and even though the feeling is VERY uncomfortable, it will be over soon. And it cannot hurt me!
I want to touch on the issue of being a Christian and dealing with this stuff. I have heard over the years some people, authors, etc. say that if you had enough faith in God that you would not deal with this stuff. That if you truly were connected to God and trusted in him, that you would stop worrying about things. And that worry is actually a sin! I totally understand the point of this, and I do agree that sometimes people experience "bad days" or dont trust God enough with their life. But in the case of TRUE DEPRESSION AND ANXIETY, it is NOT THE SAME THING! This is a legitimate medical problem, and it does not mean I am a bad Christian. It does not mean that I have too little faith, or don't trust God enough. If anything, I am so much MORE close to God over these years, because I have had to lean on him during my darkest times. There was a time in 2011 when I truly wanted to die. I didnt actually attempt suicide, but I thought about how relieving it must be to end these thoughts and this pain. Think about Robin Williams. The man was the most cheerful, funny man with an infectious personality. And we all know what happened to him. I was heartbroken, and devastated when I heard the news. He was struggling with demons behind the scenes. Someone who seemed the most happy in life was dealing with stuff even he couldn't handle. I now have more sympathy for people who have ended their lives, because I understand the feeling of wanting to escape the pain. But thankfully for me, I have Jesus in my heart, and to this point he has rescued me. And I trust him to continue to help me.
My advice and plea for anyone out there struggling is to TALK TO SOMEONE. A friend, family member, pastor, just someone. I know its cliche, but people want to help you. For the longest time, my mom and husband did NOT understand what I was going through. Arnold would become frustrated with me when I woke him up at night with panic. My mom would wonder where she went wrong with me. But over time they have come to understand that this is REAL, and no ones fault, and its just something we have to overcome. They have become my greatest supporters. If you are struggling, reach out to someone. Just talking about it, making it real, and getting it out there is freeing. Being so open and honest with my struggles has led me to SO MANY other people who are dealing with this stuff! We are not alone! We have to end the stigma related to mental health issues. It doesn't make you crazy. It doesn't mean you're a bad person. It doesn't mean you're broken or defective. It is just another thing to overcome. Anxiety and worry do not come from God, I know this. I honestly don't know why God has allowed me to suffer over the years, and not take it all away. I think He has used it to bring me closer to him. There were times I was so rock bottom, that all I could do was cry, and beg him to help me. I had to rely on him, because he was all I had. I now know also that my story can help others. If me sharing this helps even one person, its worth it. I don't care how deeply troubled you feel, or how upset you feel over other peoples opinions of you, it will be ok. Things CAN and WILL turn around. Its hard to believe it in the moment, but if I can come through what I have over the years, you can. Especially with God by your side.
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