Just So You Know Where I'm Coming From

anxiety disorder is a fickle (and intensely annoying) thing. unlike a lot of people who suffer from it, I don't have specific triggers. it can be anything or - most often - nothing at all; my body just decides to freak the hell out. I do what I can to prevent these this... I keep caffeine out of my diet (or at least to the bare minimum), I try to avoid getting overly stressed, I keep an emergency prescription of Xanax around just in case, etc. most of the time this is enough. when my anxiety level gets too high or I have an attack, usually chilling out and taking half a pill will bring me back to normal. unfortunately not so much this time. my anxiety had been riding a little high for the last couple weeks, but it was nothing I couldn't deal with. I was out of meds, and waiting for a prescription refill from the doctor. (side note: when a doctor denies a refill - for any reason, even if it's routine - either the pharmacy or the doctor really should inform you of this so you know what's going on. just saying.) wednesday night I went into full blown attack mode. fun. put a call in to my doctor's office and left a message to see if I could get in the next day and tried to calm down. music, lights out, breathing exercises, meditation, stretching - nothing helped. finally I dosed myself with more than the recommended dose of Advil pm and tried to make myself unconscious. morning, which came very early, was no better. I still couldn't get myself under control. and at this point it was starting to annoy me as well as concern me. even my worst attacks don't usually last more than 6 hours. and I was still in full panic mode - breathing shallowly, sharp chest pains, super high blood pressure, shaking, keening, the works. called in to work, because there was simply no way I could do detailed painting work like that. unfortunately, I had my drama kids to teach that afternoon, and it was their last class and performance - I had to go. I did my best to control myself, though I think I came off a little mean while we were rehearsing (it doesn't help that they're super spastic all the time anyway). by the time that was over, I was entering hour 20 of a full blown attack and something had to be done. my doctor's office couldn't work me in, and I learned that centracare cannot write scripts for things like Xanax. so I was forced to go to the ER. which is stupid. it's stupid that I have to spend that kind of money for a panic attack, it's stupid to take a spot in line away from someone who might actually be dying (not just feel like it), and well, you get the idea. but it was bad. and I did try to leave after the triage nurse told me it could take 4 hours to
be seen. 4 hours sitting still? to be seen for just anxiety? in a place with actual sick people? my poor spazzed out mind would have had a hundred things to grab on to and freak out about. however, when I tried to take my name off the list and leave, the guy who just came on duty convinced me to wait a few more minutes while he got me worked into the "fast track" area of the ER. I'm pretty sure the crazy eyes and uncontrollable tears made him want to prevent me from getting in a car and driving. in any case, a doctor saw me reletively quickly, gave me a few pills and sent me on my way. I'm much better, but suffering from what I consider an anxiety hangover. and all
that ^ was background for the next entry, so that when I say random things, you know where I'm coming from... sort of. or at least how I got to this mental point.