There is no hiding place when the fear sets in. That is a fact!
So instead of hiding, I am going to put every thought, feeling and emotion I have ever experienced into this blog. It has taken fourteen years and with a push in the direction from loved ones, here it is! I have a lot to share and hopefully you can relate and gain strength and confidence from what you read.
3rd October 2014, 04:06am:
I lay here confused angry and ask myself, what the fuck is going on? Why is this happening? Give me a break…… I don’t know who I am asking, but someone needs to answer me!
The weekend was good, there was no bad atmosphere or any reasons for me questioning my mortality right now, or at any given time in my lifetime. But I assure you, these thoughts and physical symptoms are horrible and dumbfounding! I have been laying by the side of my partner and my son all night (my son has night terrors and had a bad night) literally on the floor next to the bed. I’m feeling jealous that they both sleep so well, but happy that they actually sleep and also, they don’t have to see me in this way for a night at least.
My heart is racing, I feel dizzy, my fingers and toes feel numb, and due to the fright and confusion I have wet myself. I cannot get up as my limbs stiffen and the fright cripples me. Embarrassed? Yes. Tears? Yes. But tears of joy I’d say! I’ve come through another panic attack, I’m still alive and my son has not seen me in this way. My partner is fine about it, I couldn’t thank her enough for trying to understand.
It’s pretty hard to describe this cycle to the people closest to me without them having experienced it themselves (I wouldn’t wish it on anyone) we can all try to put ourselves in a situation that will help understand it better, but the best you can hope for is some encouragement or some pity. That’s not meant in a bad way either.
I tend to think about all of the doctors I have seen over the years….. I don’t mean this in a nasty way at all, or I do not want any pity, but unless you can talk sense or try to understand, please don’t try and palm people off with mental health ‘issues’ or ‘depression’ and a month’s prescription of anti-depressants. This is an illness that no doctor will cure with tablets. I believe this because I do not believe they practice thinking the same as another human, it’s impossible! Doctors’ will read their computer screens and then cure it for four hours maximum with the medication that has come up on their screens that best matches your symptoms. They will sedate your mind rather than train it. But then that is just masking the situation until the medication wears off and the next wave of anxiety sets in. I bet ‘general chat’ does not appear on their screens when they type in key words such as ‘panic attack’ or ‘anxiety’. That would be too difficult as some I have met in the last fourteen years do not seem human, some have seemed fed up and might possibly need a career change, some have given me the impression that they consider themselves to be too higher class to talk about the life and thoughts of an average fellow. Which is a shame, as the attention and words from a doctor could be the mask or the trigger that propels your thoughts and gives you a huge lift in confidence.
Being told you are depressed and need medication when you are not is frustrating to say the least! I believe I am not depressed, I think I live a normal life, I have good friends and family, I play football as well as keep fit but just have little blips of panic attacks, some of which just knock me that little bit harder, then if you were a man in your thirties that wets yourself while fully awake, fully aware and has no bladder problems you’d have feelings of anger, frustration and confusion now and again. I think. I’m sometimes crippled by an unwanted bout of fear that is all. So if asking yourself ‘what the fuck is going on?’ Is classed as depression, then the whole world is depressed! I do not think a human being has never asked themselves ‘what the fuck is going on?’ At some point in their lives or still do for the smallest of things. Because when having attacks I think I am going to die, genuinely! It’s as easy as that. The end results of some panic attacks have left me in a heap for a day. The intensity of some drain me both physically and mentally. I believe it’s the severity of the words that tell a doctor ‘ohh fuck, he’s talking of death, he is depressed, medicate him now doc!!’
No, just talk!!! It’s part of life, don’t hide away from it or class it alongside the plague, it’s ok to think. Some folk will think far more than others that’s for sure. If doctors have patience and a sense of humour, they will qualify far more in my opinion, rather than reading from a screen or handing out leaflets or tablets.
I will leave on that note, writing this has just taken my thoughts and made me feel a little tired 😉
Good night/morning (05:41am)
Take care, speak soon