I just survived an anxiety attack, although, the way I'm feeling it could start back up at any moment. My hands are still shaking. There's a strange heat, tingling in my head. My jaw is clenched tight. My stomach is knotted.
Yup, it's still here. But I'm still not giving in.
It started in the supermarket. Standing on line with Jack I got dizzy for no reason. Scared. Panicky. I made it home, barely holding it together. And then, as I stood in the kitchen, the unease started. The knowing that I wouldn't be ok, that I was about to lose it, that I would fall apart at any moment.
But I thought I would.
I grabbed ice cubes out of the freezer and held them so tightly I could hear them cracking. That didn't stop anything (I'd heard that holding ice cubes would stop a panic attack). I held them up to my checks until it felt they were numb. That helped slightly.
I remembered what the transplant social worker had said the other day—that I had to look at my history and know that I always survive in the end. That, and that anxiety was a learned response from my earliest years.
I don't want to react to stress with anxiety attacks anymore. I hate this.
So much unknown, so much stress, so many things I've never dealt with are in my near future and I want to find a healthier way of dealing than this.
I will not fall apart. I'm stronger than this. I have to find a way to know that at my very center and not fall back into this dark place.
Or, maybe I've been having a hot flash.
All I can say is oy.