My earliest memory of a full blown panic attack? It would have to be in grade 8, during a play in which I played Titania, the queen of fairies, in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. It was the night of the big production, the one where the school principle and parents attend. I had taken on a second role managing everyone backstage to ensure no one missed their cue (playing mother hen is a common theme in my life). However, this role left me vulnerable because no one was managing me! My love interest in the play was played by my real life love interest at the time, so talk about pressure! It was my turn to go on but unfortunately I had passed out on the floor from anxiety, totally missing my cue. I finally came to, surrounded by my classmates who ushered me onto the stage, and the rest of the show went on as planned. It was the first time I realized I didn’t just suffer from the jitters, but full blown anxiety (what a way to come to learn about it huh?).
Although I had many ups and downs throughout my 20’s I have noticed that my anxiety, and consequently my panic attacks, have gotten worse in recent years—often striking for no apparent reason. Initially, my doctor was not keen on prescribing medication for me (in that moment I was not on board with the idea either), instead he suggested I start going to the gym to increase my physical activity, as a way to manage my anxiety (I decided to join a gym also because my son was over a year old at the time and I realized I was struggling to lift him—I told myself that if I didn’t get stronger he was going to outweigh me within the year!). Going to the gym regularly helped with my anxiety quite a bit but if I missed a few gym days in a row I’d wake up in the middle of the night from a dead sleep, gasping for air in full blown panic mode. I finally admitted to myself that I needed medical intervention. My doctor eventually prescribed medication but I tried many times not to take it because it felt like I was admitting defeat. I know, it was a stupid assumption on my part, but I still felt that I could somehow manage it all on my own. A negative narrative that I now would admit was not a positive way of viewing my anxiety.
“I have learned not to hide from it, to verbalize it, to name it and to normalize it.”
My last major attack was while I was on a plane just over two years ago. I love flying and traveling so that wasn’t the issue. During a panic attack I am unable to control my breathing and I tend to unknowingly hold my breath to the point of losing consciousness (worst case scenario). On this occasion I kept thinking about the pilot having to land the plane just because my anxiety was out of control. I was with my parents and my younger sister, we were heading to New York for the weekend to catch a once in a life time concert by Andrea Bocelli, so obviously turning back was definitely not an option for me. My sister, who is a medical professional, talked me through it while I scrambled to find my anti-anxiety medication. She later told me she didn’t think I was going to make it because I had become quite pale.
What upsets me most is when I read comments online about how anxiety is not real. No, it’s not just in my head. No, it’s not something placed in my head from outside influences. Just because you don’t experience something first hand or don’t understand how something works it does not make it less real for someone else. Actually, it can be hereditary which I believe in my case it is, namely from my father’s side (Tavernese cousins please calm down, don’t you all message me at once). Furthermore, my 8 year old son suffers from anxiety and has already passed out three times in his short life, requiring medical attention on one occasion.
My way to get through it all? I have learned not to hide from it, to verbalize it, to name it and to normalize it. Therefore, I no longer hesitate to take medication when needed. My dog Luna has been a life saver as well. The key for me is also to stay active and to rest when I need to rest. Obviously gyms have been closed for almost a year due to the pandemic so I’ve had to improvise. I walk about 2 hours (sometimes more) each day. In sunny warm weather, during rainy days, chilly days and even bitterly cold days (that’s when Luna bails on me, Forrest Gump comes to mind, ‘I just felt like runnin’)—I’ve now experienced all four seasons nearly rounding out a whole year. Finally, I have learned that I need to think positively. It’s not just a cliche but a very important step to remember when dealing with anxiety. Internal dialogue plays a huge role on how we feel and what we do with our lives. What we tell ourselves—especially the tone in which we use to speak to ourselves—impacts how we feel and consequently the decisions we make. I’ve had to talk myself down off a ledge, so to speak, on many occasions so I know first hand the power of positive thoughts. I find the month of February particularly difficult. The fall and Christmas are nothing but a distant memory, and winter is far from over. However, it is in my darkest moments that I find the need, the will, the creativity to reinvent myself, if even in the smallest of ways. Whether that be a change in hair colour, a change of scenery, or something major like planning a home renovation…it all positively contributes to managing the all too familiar elephant in the room, my anxiety.
NB: If you or someone you care about is struggling with anxiety please don’t hesitate to speak to a medical professional like your family doctor or a trusted psychotherapist. You are not alone. You can also learn more about anxiety for adults, teenagers, and children by visiting http://www.anxietycanada.com
Thoughts At F___ It Forties 