[pinterest]
It was national mental health screening day last week, and I wanted to talk a bit about my experience, since my birthday coincides with my discovery of panic disorder.
We always knew I had issues with anxiety. I was a very anxious child, and this was only compounded by the fact that I had to see lots of doctors, have lots of tests, and eventually my first surgery at age five. I had to be in the hospital ten days, and except for the times I was high on morphine, I was anxious. I would have been an anxious child without these experiences (I have the genetic background for it) but my trips to doctors’ offices and hospitals made it obvious.
My struggles with depression were less obvious at first, but after awhile, it became obvious to everyone they were there. I have struggled with depression my whole life, since before puberty, and life with a dysfunctional alcoholic family made it easy to just coast along in a depressive state.
I was lucky that later on my family got help and I realized constant depression didn’t need to be my life anymore. There were other ways to live and depression was not normal. I started cultivating healthy behaviors. I sought counseling and therapy. And when my hormones during my first pregnancy made me feel that my emotions and behavior had become uncontrollable, I went on my first antidepressant.
After the baby was born, I, like many people who suffer from depression and anxiety, suffered from Post-Partum Depression. I began seeing a counselor on a regular basis and my OB upped my meds. Events in my personal life were extremely challenging as well: my husband had just graduated college and couldn’t find a job, my younger sister, who also struggled mightily with mental health and addiction, was unemployed and living with us, and my job at the library was constantly under threats of layoffs and was a constant source of stress. I was dealing with the hormone fallout of a traumatic birth and the subsequent extended recovery while being responsible for a perfect, yet needy, newborn. I decided to stay on my meds for the foreseeable future.
About a year later, my personal life rapidly improved. My sister was becoming healthier, much healthier, and eventually she moved out. My husband found a great job with a company that was extremely good to us. I was able to leave my job at the library and all that stress behind to stay at home with Isobel, which was something I had always wanted. My happiness made me feel like I had wings and I could soar above life’s problems effortlessly. I had all the things I had wanted and I was finally, after all those dark months of struggle, happy.
I talked to my therapist about this one day. I told him I was going to go off my meds. I didn’t have depression anymore, and we had been working on cognitively dealing with my anxiety. I felt invulnerable. I wasn’t going to take meds if I didn’t need them.
He advised caution. He wanted me to think about this decision carefully given my family’s genetic history and my own personal history with mental illness. Sometimes depression and anxiety aren’t about life’s problems, he cautioned. They can appear at any time and deceive you.
I wanted to get off the medication, however. I was adamant. Life was great.
In the late summer of 2011, I weaned myself off my antidepressant. I didn’t notice a huge difference at first. I slept better, but I had always been a pretty good sleeper. The days were filled with playing outside with Isobel and making crafts and cooking. We saw friends on the weekends and spent time with Anthony every evening. I was so happy. I felt like I was finally doing what I was meant to be doing.
Somehow, starting in very small ways, that began to change.
We’d be going about business as usual when this wave would pass through me. I didn’t know what it was but I felt, for a few seconds, overcome by something. I felt like I was going to drown. It started infrequently but then came at me more and more often. I started to wonder if all my happiness was a lie. If I was truly happy, then why would I have these feelings of intense terror out of nowhere? Maybe I only thought I was happy. Maybe… maybe I was going crazy.
Fall and my birthday approached. It got worse. I talked and talked about it with Anthony almost constantly. I would tell him all of my crazy thoughts and ideas and he would dispel them, one by one, and poof, they’d vanish, like magic, and I could be myself again. Soon the aftereffects of those talks would wear off and I’d be crazily worrying if everything about myself was a lie, because if I couldn’t trust myself to recognize happiness, the happiness of my whole life, then how could I trust myself at all? My thoughts would spiral in impossible ways, none of them making any sense to anyone but me.
Eventually, on the days leading up to my birthday, I couldn’t think at all. The night before we took our trip I stayed up all night, my body rigid and tense, my muscles unwilling to relax, my mind, reeling in fear. I was suffering from panic attacks, but I didn’t know it. I had never had a panic attack, and although I had heard of them, I assumed that when you had a panic attack you knew it and were aware of it. I was neither of these things. I was terrified and hyperventilating and convinced, absolutely convinced, I was going crazy.
I eventually reached out to my therapist. Actually, Anthony did. I wasn’t in control of myself enough at that point to even do that. Anthony called him, spoke with him awhile, and then put me on the phone. I saw him in an emergency session, and on his advice went to my doctor. They drew some blood and ran some tests and sent me home with some Xanax and my trusty prescription for antidepressants.
Life quickly, and then slowly, got better after that. I could sleep again and although I felt extremely fragile, I felt like myself again. Things that used to make me happy made me happy again, without the persistent background of fear. Eventually, I felt like myself all the time again. I occasionally took half a Xanax if I felt a panic attack coming on, and gradually, I didn’t feel them coming on anymore. I have the bottle of Xanax in my cupboard, but now it’s there primarily as a security blanket.
I discussed the things that happened with my therapist, and I came to an understanding about what happened. The medicine my OB put me on for depression also treated panic disorder, which I probably developed due to a combination of age, stress, and genetic background. Several people in my family experience panic attacks, so I was unwittingly at risk. Who knows how long I had been prone to develop them while the medicine I had been taking for depression and anxiety for over two years had been quietly treating them. When I decided to go off that medicine the heretofore unknown panic was free to wreak havoc on my psyche.
I will probably be on some sort of anxiety-controlling medicine my whole life, and knowing the alternative, that is just fine with me. There are steps I can take to minimize risks to my mental health, but this is a disease I ultimately have no control over. It’s part of how I was made, and just as much a part of me as being left-handed or having a quick wit. It’s not a personal failing, or a weakness. It’s a chemical process that I have no control over. The only thing I have control over is how I deal with it. And I’m going to talk about it.
I never really discussed, fully, what happened in 2011. I was in the middle of experiencing my disorder and I didn’t have the words to talk about it yet. As time passed, I still had a hard time talking about it in detail, but eventually, I did. First with Anthony and my therapist, and then with family and friends, and now, I feel that enough time has passed that I can share it with you.
One of the biggest fears I had when I was going through this time was that I was alone, that I was abnormal, and that I talked about it no one would understand, when in reality this is an incredibly common phenomenon, it is a completely normal reaction to have, and lots and lots of people understand. If you are going through this, it’s going to be okay. You are normal. You are not alone. I completely understand.
[pinterest]
i can fully understand you. i’m borderline, and on meds since 2009. life have been a terrible rollercoaster since my childhood and i’ve experience lot’s of shitty relashionships. you have the chance to have a wonderful and understanding husband, keep it! support is one of the most important thing in our condition and you have it :) i could go on and on about my mental problems and how meds have helped me yet they’re the main reason of other troubles but i don’t want to bother you with this.
Medication has changed my life, and I can see that it’s made a huge difference in yours, too. Glad to know you, Marie-Michelle.
Good for you for owning it. I, too, live with Panic Disorder…and I’ve found that half the battle was recognizing Panic for what it was. My body is extremely sensitive, and I’ve been able to identify many of my triggers for panic. I’ve also been blessed to have extremely understanding people in my life…sounds like you are as well.
Now…have a fantastic day.
Kate recently posted..Iran nuclear talks and LOOK, A NAKED GUY! Alternately Titled: Let’s Talk About Relevance
Thank you so much for stopping by, Kate. You nailed it exactly – half the battle was just recognizing it for what it was. I was so surprised when my doctor told me it was panic. But once we figured that out the healing started from there.
I too will take anti anxiety meds for the rest of my life. Twice I’ve tried to talk myself out of needing them, only to finally crawl back to my doctor when the reality that life without them is a much shittier version of the life I lead with them.
Hopefully in talking about what we’ve all faced and how we asked for help we can encourage others who are suffering not to keep suffering and get the help they deserve.
Much love
Ashley, the Accidental Olympian recently posted..WHAT IS IT ABOUT FALL & THE NEED TO CHANGE?
Hugs, Ashley. This is the sort of thinking that needs to change about mental health. We wouldn’t try to talk ourselves out of heart condition medication, nor would we convince ourselves that we would be totally fine without our diabetes meds. But because no one likes to be on meds for their brain we constantly try to convince ourselves that if we just had enough willpower we could get off our brain meds. This is the sort of stigma our society has against mental health. This is what needs to change.
Good for you for taking care of yourself! As a therapist and a person who has a strong genetic history of depression and anxiety, both of which I have suffered with myself on and off again for 25 years, choices about medications can be daunting and complicated. Every person’s journey is different and I try to offer many different paths to healing. Often the most holistic answer is that most mood disorders are due to multiple factors and the fact that almost everything affects brain chemistry. Brain chemistry changes can be caused by medications, effective therapy, diet, exercise, healthy relationships, etc. The hard part is “getting out of your own way” when you are deeply entrenched in a crisis, in order to think clearly enough to be able to explore any other treatment options.
I have found amazing relief from my symptoms after I finally figured out I was hypoglycemic. Until that time, I had been in and out of depressive states, tried many doctors, was using Xanax weekly or more for panic. Due to my family history, I began to except that “this is the way it is”. One day, I had a very bad episode that sent me to the doctor and my blood sugar was in the toilet. I had no idea that this could be contributing to my symptoms! Regulating my blood sugar has almost completely cured me of anxiety symptoms, and when I do feel them come on, 9 out of 10 times, if I rest, eat a little something, the symptoms disappear.
This is my individual story and not meant to apply to anyone else. Every person is different and a complicated set of circumstances attribute to mood disorders and their harrowing symptoms. I would however, encourage each person to explore holistically their own situation. Medication may be the solution for life, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be if you don’t want it to be. There are often many paths to healing.
I am so glad you brought this up, Eliza! This is exactly what my therapist said to me during our emergency session. Plenty of times there are underlying physical causes that could be triggering or inducing panic episodes. That was one of the reasons he sent me to the doctor. He insisted I get a full workup, physical and blood panel done. I’m glad I did, even though it confirmed that this was just a brain chemistry issue. Everyone needs to involved in their own care.
I went through something similar in 2011. I was confident that I no longer needed my SSRI. After about 6 months, I realized that I couldn’t handle life on my own. I’m back on a very low dose of Celexa that takes the edge off and I have my own security blanket in the cabinet. I feel so much better! If I could only get some decent sleep, it’d perfect. Thanks for sharing. I told you that you’re my spirit animal!
Kate recently posted..Snapshots 10-16-13
Celexa is my spirit animal. ;)
Thank you for talking so openly about this! It’s really time mental health stopped being such a taboo subject. I’m sorry you had to go through such a truly awful period to get to where you are now, but I’m happy to hear you’re doing so much better. I hope depression and anxiety never trouble your doorstep again. I know them both well, and they are NOT easy to beat, so I commend your strength and perseverance :)
Thank you so much, Sarah! I have the tools and I know what to do to take care of myself, and that makes all the difference.
Thank you got sharing your story. It does help to know there are others that struggle with the same conditions, and it’s nice to read something from someone who can explain what it feels like to suffer from these things so perfectly. I’ve never been good at describing the feelings. Glad you re feeling better and that you are willing to share with us :)
Thanks for stopping by, Rachel! It took a really, really long time for me to be able to adequately express these feelings with words. When this happened in 2011 I didn’t want to talk about it at all because I couldn’t begin to express how large the problem was for me. It was too huge, too insurmountable. When the one year anniversary came around last year, I still didn’t have the ability to communicate my experience. It’s only now, two years later, that I was able to write about it in a coherent fashion. These things take time. Thank you.
*big hugs!*
It’s awesome-sauce you have gotten to this point, you, ma’am, are fucking awesome and rock, hard.
Side Note:
We will have a creme brulee making party soon.
TheBlackStar (@TheBlackStar) recently posted..289 of 365 – hugs
Bring the fire extinguisher! I am so down.
Fire Extinguisher is acquired, and sitting next to my desk. It will be a learning experience, a very delicious learning experience.
I still plan to make the Loukoumades sometime soon, and I believe those are best eaten fresh baked.
basically I am saying we should have baking parties like once a month.
TheBlackStar (@TheBlackStar) recently posted..Helping
I see no flaw with this plan.
It would be lots of fun, and I have long meant to learn the finer arts of cooking and baking, and just never make myself do it.
TheBlackStar (@TheBlackStar) recently posted..Isobel
I’m always available as consultant, teacher & quality control :)
valerie recently posted..Werk It
Carrie Anne – I love you.
Justin – Ivan actually is *experienced* at making creme-brulee AND has a kitchen torch. I will offer him up to you. He also has individual ramekins in small and medium portions. (He went through a French cooking phase.)
!!
I just got a torch, which technically is not a kitchen torch, but should work the same.
However, I will happily apprentice-chef for Ivan and learn the ways of the Creme Brulee from him.
TheBlackStar (@TheBlackStar) recently posted..Isobel!
I totally forgot! He did make us some fantastic creme brulee and I even took a video of him using the blow torch on the top! I think he loved using it as much as I was afraid of it. ;)
That is all true. He likes when I make s’mores things where he has an excuse to pull it out. Too fancy for the broiler, this guy!
I love you. <3
I love you, lady.
This is a beautifully written and astoundingly honest post that will make a difference in lives. You’ve done a mitzvah!
{{{hugs}}}
thanks!
Your a beautiful and strong woman! It takes lady balls to talk about this stuff, and I admire you for doing so! Your never alone even when it feels so!
Thanks, Morgan! My ladyballs are one of my nicest features. :)
Great, difficult post. I bet it feels good to get it out there though. I have dealt with depression since the 3rd grade and similarly tried to self-ween from my meds when I got to college because I felt they were keeping me at such a flat, boring level. I soon learned the power of stress to deplete your seretonin levels, as my depression came back with a vengeance, nearly ending my relationship with my (now) wife. It was an experience I don’t plan to repeat, and fortunately the newer anti-depressants on the market now take much less a toll on one’s creativity and sense of enjoyment of life. I’m perfectly comfortable with a life on anti-depressants – depression and anxiety are physical illnesses and are best managed accordingly.
PS: Celexa is a wonder drug. Makes you you again. I’ve been on it for 11 years and haven’t slipped back into depression since. And that’s saying a lot for someone who decided to be a schedule-less stay-at-home dad in one of the cloudiest cities in the US.
Right?! I totally feel you, Will. And I’m sure your wife, with her medical background, has sympathy for what you went through. You guys are one of my favorite families.
thank you for talking so openly about your struggles with this. i know so many people on meds for anxiety and depression; definitely you are not alone.
Thank you, Kathi! It took awhile for me to comfortable talking about it, but I’m really okay with it now.
I decided when I was first officially diagnosed with depression, anxiety, and panic disorder that I would always be open about it no matter the cost. Sometimes it costs a lot to be honest but more often it helps others when I share my experiences. Every time someone else feels ready to come into the open and share, like you are now, I feel more hopeful that the stigma attached to mental illness will one day be part of the past. I’m glad you took your time and I’m glad you’ve come to this point. HUGE HUGS TO YOU!!!
Angelina recently posted..Measurable Truth
Hugs to you, Angelina, I know you have had your struggles and it’s not easy! Your commitment to openness and honesty is inspiring.
This was a very honest blog about life with anxiety and depression. As your Mom, I am proud to be able to say that you’re my daughter, and that you have come a long way, baby. (A line from an old 1970’s Veiginia Slims ad…. Women’s Lib and all that..)
Thanks, Mama!
Nothing but love going your way. Despite my cheery disposition I’ve tangled with this too. If appropriate we can always use some table time to share some thoughts.
If you ever want to talk, I’m here for you. :)
i don’t think i would be here if i hadn’t gotten help and medication. you’re right. sometimes it’s not “just life” but also a very real chemical imbalance (or genetic issue). thank you for sharing your story and for continuing to be such a strong person (even if you maybe don’t feel that you are all the time). *hugs*
Hugs to you, Missy. xoxo
Half the battle is talking about it; then it releases the shame of suffering from it. I have had panic/depression since I was a teen. After a hellish last year weaning off Paxil, I am on Lexapro and life is getting back to normal. I have a safety blanket of Klonopin too. And a wonderful therapist. Of course I wish I didn’t have to take the meds, but if that’s what it takes to live this all too short life, I’ll do it. Much love to you, Carrie. (btw, my birthday was Oct. 15th). xo
Well, happy birthday to you, too! And thank for sharing. xoxo
Thank you for sharing Carrie. I feel like I’ve told the same story myself, many times. It’s so easy, when you’re properly medicated, to say “Hey, I don’t actually need this!” And you think you’re being strong, making the right choice for your life because drugs are BAD and we shouldn’t need them to be happy. What turns out to be the strongest thing we do, as depressed people, is to go back on our medications – to seek help from friends and loved ones and medical professionals. You did it!!! And you will never lose that strength.
Juliet recently posted..RANT
Thank you so much for the encouragement, Juliet. <3
<3<3<3
Hearts to you.
I’m really glad couldn’t sleep tonight because it meant I had the time to read this post. I think back over the years when we used to sit and talk, I’m so impressed with how you’ve managed to become an even stronger YOU! This took courage to share… gentle hugs.
Thanks, Shari. :)
I love you.
<3 you, lady.
I know I’m late commenting on this, but through a series of block click throughs I found this post. I deal with anxiety myself, and only recently acknowledged how bad it had gotten and that I needed to see a therapist. I always thought it was manageable – sure, I had trouble staying asleep at night because I’d wake up in a cold panic. I avoided going out with friends and constantly canceled plans at the last minute. Tests made me feel like I was going to throw up or pass out. But as I got older, it got worse. My sophomore year of college I barely left my room except for classes and work. Waitressing was pretty much my only social interaction, and I spent most of my time watching Netflix (to the point that my eyes would burn because I’d been staring at the screen so long). My roommates – who were some of my best friends – stopped telling me the things in their lives and on the rare occasion I’d try to jump in on a conversation, if it was a personal one, they’d ask me to leave because they didn’t want to tell me everything. That was the worst it was, and it did get slightly better. But my social anxiety became crippling, and I finally realized that this year, after several nervous breakdowns in which I realized I’d be graduating in May and honestly couldn’t say that I had more than one close friend. All that to say, after talking to my mom and realizing that she and my family and my one close friend weren’t going to judge me for getting help (and possibly medication, which I’d been thinking about for months), I saw a counselor on my campus. It’s only been about two months, but I can honestly say it has helped. My point being, I think one of my biggest fears in getting help was the judgement I would get. Partially, I’m sure that’s because of my social anxiety. But I also think it has to do with the stigma that surrounds mental illness, and the fact that nobody is willing to talk about it. Your post was beautifully written, and I’m glad that you’ve found a good place. I hope that your post can help other people in similar situations.
Kiersten recently posted..Why I Need Feminism
Thank you so much, Kiersten, and sorry for the late reply (I recently had a baby and am behind on everything). I’m so glad you are being proactive and getting help. That can be the hardest thing of all. Hope you’re seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.
xoxo
I can relate to so much of what you’ve said in this post and am very glad to have found it. It takes years to figure out a good combination of things that “work” to help cope with depression and anxiety. I think pregnancy, babies, and big life changes tend to get people out of balance all over again, which can be trying. It’s hard that we live in a society where people still stigmatize these chemical imbalances and say ignorant things that imply it’s a person’s fault. Thank you for writing about it.
courtney recently posted..on yoga, and pregnancy, and feeling a little bit stronger
Yes, this is exactly it, Courtney! Once you find something that works you sometimes have to start all over from scratch when life, or your body chemistry changes. Thank you so much for visiting.
xoxo
Thank you, thank you, thank you Carrie Ann, for writing about this so openly. You inspired me to write about my experiences with anxiety, depression, and seasonal affective disorder on my own blog (not an easy post to hit “Publish” on, but a worthy one, I think). I don’t think I could ever say thank you enough times for your honesty. You are the best.
Hannah recently posted..Dear coffee: It’s complicated (A story of anxiety, creativity & caffeine)
You are so welcome, Hannah! I’m glad I could help. <3
I’ve had panic attacks my whole life… I just didn’t know what they were until I finally described one of these “episodes” to my family doctor, thinking maybe it as a side effect from my antidepressant. Because yeah, I’ve been on antidepressants since I was 18. The thing I didn’t ever do until a few years ago, was try therapy (mainly due to a couple of experiences with two terrible therapists)… I had my logical, patient,loving husband to support me through the really bad lows and talk me down when the panic hit. Then, I didn’t have him anymore. And its gotten so much worse. I’ll admit, one on one therapy doesn’t help me much… I have a hard time looking people i don’t know in the eye and explaining how I can’t see color or taste food anymore. How I am weak and have only a modicum of control over my emotions (my perception anyway). I was always just given a pill and soldiered on. Once it got so painful that I couldn’t stop wanting to die, thinking about how I could die, convincing myself that everyone would be better off if I was the one whonhad died… I got actual, professional help. Group therapy is a lifesaver for me. Doing the actual eork of grief and depression and anxiety is so much harder than just taking a pill. I will always be on an antidepressant… I’ve played the “I’m better now, I don’t need them” game enough times to know that I will always need them. Just like I will always need to take medication to keep my kidneys functioning and not be in horrible pain everyday. But doing the work… the journaling, the qrief groups, the meditation, the breathing exercises… I feel a little less powerless. Keep talking and writing about it. You never know who will read your words at just the right moment and realize they don’t have to live that way. Love you friend!