Short of breath. Hands unsteady. A rush of sudden fear without
explanation. It can happen when I’m sleeping. How often have I woken up at 3 or
4 a.m. with a jolt of panic, the origins of which I cannot place? Between that
and the sleep paralysis, going to bed is a dreadful thing for me; I find no
peace in my dreams and no security in my mind.
Often, the panic arrives when I’m awake. It can be at any
time of day or night. Random sudden movements or noises can set it off. It’s
happened in public – cases in which I’m walking down the street, and the beep
of a car makes me flinch, arms flailing for a second (just long enough to
provide some embarrassment, and once or twice, awkward looks or chuckles from
passersby; I’m glad my crippling anxiety can be someone else’s entertainment).
A person suddenly emerging from a store entrance can also have this effect. Or
a loud clink from construction work. I can’t predict what’s going to cause the
panic to emerge. There isn’t really any specific sort of pattern.
But there, at least, there are triggers. It’s more
disturbing to me when it happens for no reason at all. I can be happily typing
away like I’m doing right now, or watching a movie on my laptop, or folding
laundry. And suddenly, like an old and very personal nemesis, it’s back again.
I clutch my chest as another panic attack hits, the world swims hazily in front
of my eyes like water circling a drain, and for the briefest moment, I know for
certain that some kind of horrible impending doom is at hand.
I’ve been diagnosed with panic disorder. I have medication
for it, but doctors are hesitant to give out a lot of potentially habit-forming
medication, so I have a non-refillable prescription of 30 pills. I’m supposed
to space them out, to take them only when I really need them. The problem is, I
feel like I need them all the time (but I don’t lean on them much; I’ve still
got 26 pills left). Between panic attacks, I’m almost in a constant state of
fear and dread, and I don’t know why. Mercifully, there are periods of time
where that feeling just goes away. Don’t get me wrong, I can sometimes have
weeks and weeks of happiness, and I suppose, a sense of relative calmness
(though I rarely feel entirely tranquil).
I never used to be like this. It all began – truly began,
from what I can remember – around 2016 or so. I feel like living in a big city
is conducive to my panic attacks, and does play a role. Prior to moving to
Chicago in 2009, I lived in a town with forests, farms, and mountains, where
you’d see a car on the road maybe once every 20 minutes. Transitioning from
that to city life has been anything but smooth. It’s comparable to diving into
ice water.
Since last year, I feel like whatever it is I’m going
through has worsened. I now sometimes feel a sense of removal from myself, as
if I’m outside of myself. More than a few times, I’ve sat at my computer and
felt a strange sensation, like my spirit was being pushed out of my body; I’ve
felt like my “presence” or “essence” was behind my body, by the bed, five feet
away from where I was sitting. The first time it happened it scared the shit
out of me. I still find it disturbing. I don’t believe I’ve talked about this online
until now.
For the past week or so, my mind has felt so overwhelmed from
what I’m going through that I haven’t been able to pursue the things I’m
passionate about – everything from writing to working on my YouTube channel. I’m
trying to get my head back in the game, but it feels like an uphill battle
right now.
I just want to feel better. I don’t want to be eating dinner
and suddenly drop my fork and jolt upward out of my chair, because my roommate’s
dog barked. I don’t want to draw bemused eyes upon me when I’m walking outside,
because a sudden police siren made me jump. I don’t want to wake up and feel a
random, fatalistic sense of terror, an emotion that seems to have no
conceivable reason for even being in my mind. I don’t know why this is
happening to me, and every time I fight it, I feel like I get punished for it;
the feeling returns, seemingly ten times stronger.
I love life and there’s so much I want to do. I want to see
the world. I want to finish my manuscript and possibly see it published someday
as a novel. I want to get back to my normal schedule as a YouTuber. I want to
meet new people and not mentally debate going outside because there’s an
irrational sense of danger in my heart. I just want things to change.
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