Here Comes the Anxiety

Thank you, Wombats, for lending me your title.

I’ve mentioned, maybe a few times before, that I’ve always had panic attacks. It’s a little difficult to explain, but the point is that when I get a panic attack, logic gets thrown out the window and no amount of mental convincing will calm me down.

My cardiologist taught me breathing exercises to help me get through an attack. The only problem is that when you’re in the middle of an attack, it’s very difficult to get your brain to cooperate. It’s like the brain is so set on the idea that I’m dying, and no amount of logic will help me work it out.

You might not understand it, but fighting your own brain is insanely difficult.

Panic attacks are really humiliating; I’ve blacked out on a train once and had to be fanned back to life by strangers. There was also the incident (on the train, again) wherein I started blubbering because I thought I was running out of oxygen.

Now all these things I’ve taken in stride, but I suppose it’s official now. I have mild anxiety disorder.

Yay.

I went in to see a neurologist because I’ve been having frequent migraines and vertigo. A few days ago I got woozy for about five minutes straight. Everything was moving around me.

But Mr. Neurologist is also a psychiatrist, and a pretty damn good one at that. Turns out all my symptoms (I didn’t even tell him about the panic attacks at first) are results of my anxiety disorder. So now I’m taking a psychotropic, which pretty much makes me even woozier. I don’t know if it’s working.

I will have to see the doctor again after a week. Maybe he’ll tell me I’m magically fine now. I just hope he doesn’t make me go to sessions. I’d rather take the woozifying meds than talk to a shrink about me.

Too much.

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