Anxiety and Panic Attacks.....Can't Live with them....Can't get a Xanax prescription without them!

It has been a while since I have written a new post, but today is the day I need to unload a piece of this tiny little demon that is putting a halt to all the things I love in my life right now.  Panic......such an ugly emotion that serves no purpose in anyone's life, but unfortunately plagues more than you could ever imagine.  Take a second, look around you, I would put large amounts of shoes, pickles, bottles of red wine, strawberry rhubarb pie, and exercise (all things I looooovvvee) that half of the people you are surrounded by each day suffer from some form of anxiety or panic disorder. The thought of that gives me an ache in my chest and a pit in my belly.  I remember when I had my first panic attack and life was turned upside down for this little independent firecracker.  June 26th, 1999....My best friend Kylie and I were on our way to a party out in the country at a friends house, a typical summer night!  As we approached the house , a huge Rottweiler came running up to the car....oh.....no.  I may or may not have a large fear of dogs and immediately tensed up.  I was told as we started to exit the car to make sure I put my hands up by my head or the dog would bite me.........Yup this is where I would die,  I was going to meet my maker and become dinner for this beast of a dog.  Little did I know at the time this beast of a dog was actually a lover and wouldn't hurt a fly, but some thought it would be funny to get a rise out of me not knowing what was about to come.  As I made my way as quickly as possible to the house, hands right by my head as instructed, I didn't realize how shallow I was breathing.  By the time I made it inside I had this tingling in my hands that continued to get worse and worse, which in return frightened me causing me to continue the shallow breathing and eventually turned into full on hyperventilation.  Needsless to say, I PANICKED!  I got Kylie and told her something was wrong and I needed to get home immediately.  As Kylie gathered friends to drive us back into town the tingling got worse and eventually caused my muscles to stiffen and my hands to posture, unable to move my fingers.  My heart was racing, my throat felt like it was closing up, I couldn't focus, I fealt a fear unlike any other I had ever felt, and I couldn't breathe. In my teenage mind, I was dieing.  As we drove back to town I screamed and cried for them to not let me die, they called 911 so the ambulance could meet us at my house and rush me to the hospital. No one knew what was happening, and this was a brand new experience for me that was just wrong....no other words to explain it but wrong.  Terrified out of my mind I was loaded up into an ambulance and rushed to Liberal to find out what was happening to my tiny, once healthy little body one hour prior.  As the EMT's worked on me I was questioned about what drugs I may have taken?, how much alcohol I had?, did someone at the party slip me something?,.... I mean you have to be on something!! Really?!?!  I was this scared little girl, feeling like my world was collapsing around me and I had to defend myself to people who were supposed to help me?  As I explained to them I did not do drugs ( had never touched one in my life) and I hadn't drank anything or put any substance in my body prior to this happening, my answers were reciprocated with looks of "Do you think we are idiots?"  "We know you are on something and not telling us the truth!"  As the EMTs wheeled me into the ER I can hear one explaining to they doctor that they expect a drug overdose and that I should be throughouly tested for all substances.  After hours of unneccesary testing, because yes my body was clean of all substances minus a vanilla Dr. Pepper or two, I was released with the diagnosis of hyperventilation associated with a severe panic attack.  Awesome!  No big deal, nothing serious just a little freak out......or so I thought.  The next morning I woke up and I just felt different,  I was a little dizzy, had this terrible headache, and just didn't feel like the girl from 24 hours ago.  Most people would be able to just shake off the attack and move on, unfortunately that little panic attack triggered something in my brain causing a chemical imbalance that has plagued me ever since.  The day after the attack I tried to go about my day as I would any other day, but it seemed as though my mind had different plans.  I couldn't get the fear of another attack occurring out of my mind.....which in return causes more and more attacks to happen.  It didn't help that at the same time I was trying to figure out this new normal. I was fighting off rumors that I was a drug addict, that I overdosed on drugs, and sadly those EMT's who were suppose to help me were behind spreading those painful rumors.  Welcome to a small town folks.  I had parent's not wanting their kids to be around me because of my "addiction", and from that day on I was looked at differently.  If those people knew now how much those rumors broke my heart and destroyed my reputation I wonder if they would be sorry today?  Especially since I have never used drugs before, unless you count prescription medications to treat my anxiety.  The next year, my senior year, was probably the worst year of my life. Dealing with attacks at school, unable to drive a car, unable to leave my house at times, and plagued with an unexplainable fear from the moment I woke up to the moment I went to sleep.  Things were so bad I had to have my sisters sit outside the door when I used the restroom, someone had to lay in bed with me until I fell asleep, the list goes on and on of the things that took me from one of the most independent people to a prisoner of my own body.  After time, the medications that doctors prescribed to me started to work and started to make me feel better.  This was not an overnight change, but two years after my first attack I was finally starting to feel a bit of normalcy.  I am not saying that it was fixed, done, stick a band aid on it and call it a day, I had my bad days, but my good days were starting to out weight the bad.  Eventually, I developed the tools I needed to handle each attack when it came instead of depending on a medication to bring me back to reality.....what an amazing feeling.  I had this new lease on life and a positive outlook for the future, so I decided it was time to break the cycle and I packed my things and moved to Denver, CO in November of 2004.  What an amazing, life changing decision.  The next 7 years were the best of my life.  I became that independent little firecracker again, met my soulmate, and took control of my life and my future. I couldn't force myself to have a panic attack if I wanted to.  In late 2010 after realizing my husband and I were going to need assistance starting a family I was put on hormones to give our chances that little extra oomph.  Things were going great, so in July 2011 we decided to go full force and pumped my body full of every hormone possible....estrogen, progesterone, chlomid, and HCG injections.  Oh boy, my body was not happy.  Something about the overload of hormones triggered that imbalance in my brain and BOOM, full on panic attacks every waking moment. The worst part of it was that my husband had never seen melike that.....falling apart, sobbing, feeling like I was dieing, and unable to do the things I loved.  I was ashamed, embarrassed, and never wanted him to see me like this.  But, in his supportive fashion he held me when I was falling apart and stood by me every second until this phase of panic passed.  Fortunately, the recovery was quicker then in the past and I was able to regain control of my life and move forward.  The next year of our lives, as you have all read in my past blog, was one of the most traumatic and painful years my husband and I have had to endure, but with support from our friends and loved ones we were able to conquer that mountain of pain and I came out on on the other side without being plagued with the panic attacks that I assumed would show their ugly little heads.  As the time passed I became stronger and felt like it was ok to move forward and continue with things that I use to love to do, and three weeks ago that is what I decided to do.  Along with my husband, my sister-in-law and her husband we started a bootcamp.  The first two weeks were amazing, I hadn't felt that good in a very long time and I was slowing melting away that extra 8 pounds I needed to get rid of from not taking the best care of my body over the past 6 months.  I had this new lease on life and the future was looking pretty bright for Aaron and I.  We were both getting back into shape, we would be closing on our new home in August, and talks of starting to try to have a baby again had begun......I was feeling pretty good about life.  Then on July 9th, after a combination of a cold virus, depleted magnesium and sodium from intense exercise I developed a little syndrom called POTS, Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome. I don't think there is anything scarier than when your ticker decides to malfunction. The first week was terrible, I couldn't walk two feet without feeling as though I would faint. My heart rate would jump from 65 beats per second resting to 130 beats per second the minute I go to my feet. This syndrome causes extreme fatigue, while at the same time my adrenalin is pumping constantly. Going through your day-to-day in a chronic adrenalin rush is exhausting, as well as taxing on my body and a gas pedal for my panic attacks. I felt defeated. The attacks were back, and I would once again have to fight this uphill battle of fear. The past month there have been moments where I have wanted to give up, I didn't think I could face this journey again, and I was ashamed of this panic plague once again. I questioned, "why me?" "why am I being tested over and over?" "Please God, Please I need a little break from the pain and emotional boxing match in my head." "Can't I be given just a small ounce of peace?" There are no answers to my questions, I just have to accept my path as my own, and just try and make it better. I can't be embarrased of something that I cannot control. This is me, every tear, every panic attack, every brick that is thrown at my head lately, and I just have to own it. Right now I am going on week 4 of this syndrome that will eventually subside over time, I just have to wait it out. (the wait is kind of hard when you are living with a heart holster monitor attached to your chest and a monitor hanging from your pocket morning, noon, and night) The monitor gets me sad looks all the time, mostly because I think people thing it is a walkman and I might have a few screws loose because come on......nobody sells cassette tapes anymore. But, I don't want pity.....my blog is all about giving people an understanding of things they may have never known. Panic attacks are real....and I wouldn't wish them on anyone, but they do get better, it just takes time. Time some feel they don't have, but I know I am worth the time, so I am confident this little panic demon will be heading south soon. FINGERS CROSSED!!!! If anyone out there suffers from this, just know you aren't alone....there are millions of people who suffer right along side you. Don't give up, don't let the panic win. Just take it one day at a time and one day you will wake up and realize the control is once again yours.