Sunday, February 4, 2007

Inside a Panic Attack

I wake up and the tasks of the day loom in front of me, including the usual Sunday morning running around, getting ready. My body is tense, jittery, I pace around. I clench and unclench my hands trying to ease the tingling and loosen the tension. I tell myself that this is stupid, mentally beating myself up for getting this way on Sundays. I finally take a xanax and, knowing there is no way I can survive the car ride to church if DH drives, I drive. Soon the distractions of Church kick in and I am okay. Zoned out for the most part, kind of foggy, but okay.
Lunch is tense as I deal with a squirmy toddler and I know that I need to get away. DH offers to take DD to Gander Mtn and wants me to go. I decline - saying I need to work. Really I climb into bed and escape into sleep for 2 1/2 hours. Blissful sleep. I wake up groggy as I hear DH & DD come home. I jump up, pretending as if I haven't been asleep that long - to be so would be weak.
The afternoon is okay. DH is tense over the game and keeps wanting to talk and I don't want to talk. I just want to zone out and "go away" and be by myself. I finally get DD to bed and try to difuse the panic by typing on here. Not working. My fingers are tingly and I clench/unclench them. I wiggle. My head is dizzy and I can't see straight - there is a fog across my vision. My stomach is nauseous and I want to go get sick, but when I look down the hall it seems so long and I wonder if I can navigate it. I am hot - so hot. I strip down to my tank top and pajams - removing my sweat shirt and socks. I'm snappy at DH and just want him to SHUT UP. I try to go in and take 5 but no one will leave me alone and I don't want to get into the "why I need 5" discussion so I just ignore it. I do take a xanax and start watching the clock, knowing it will ease soon. I want to go pin so bad but I committ to waiting 20....................I'm still tingly, so tense I fear my bones will shatter. And my fingers are so tingly as if someone is stabbing needles into them. I walk down the hall, hating myself every step of the way, but craving the release. I sit down and find the pin, stretch out the skin and stab. Over and over. The first few hurt and the pain feels good. A release from the tingly sensation. I want to stop at 8 but can't. With every time the pin goes in, it is as if air releases from my lungs, tension escaping out the pin hole. I stop at 16 only because to continue means moving to another leg. Stand up, wipe off the blood spots and prepare to walk out. Catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and am sad at the dead look in my eyes. I turn away and walk back out to "real life" to pretend that I'm okay.

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