I have been on the anxiety struggle bus for the last few weeks. This is not my first rodeo and I’m certain it won’t be the last as it seems anxiety and panic are part of my genetic disposition.
Anyway, about last night.
Little had a game last night and I am that Momma who refuses to miss. Even though I’d been awake since 415am, worked all day, hadn’t eaten and felt like left over toast. Even though every little noise is insanely loud and even though I feel like I’m floating most of the time instead of walking. I went. I knew as soon as I sat down on the bleachers it was going to be a long night. I couldn’t get comfortable. I was swaying. I was rocking. I was stiff. I couldn’t stretch out. The noise was unbearable. All of the voices. The motion. Everything was moving. The players. The cheerleaders. My ears were hurting. My ears were popping, ringing. And the girls had only began to play. I still had to make it thru the boys game too.
I had to remind myself that I was only in discomfort. Not danger.
I couldn’t swallow. I was breathing funny. And shaking .Trembling. My heart was beating a million miles an hour. And I was about to freeze. 2 quarters to go. I had to pee.
Remember, discomfort, not danger. You’re safe. It’ll go away, they always go away.
I kept watching the clock, checking my pulse. Coughing. Trying to settle my heart rate, trying not to hyperventilate, trying not to fall forward onto the floor, trying to swallow the unmovable lump in my throat and trying not to make a mad dash to my car.
Discomfort, not danger. Discomfort, not danger.
The score was tied, with 4 seconds left in the game. My Mustangs scored and won our first game of the season.
Discomfort, not danger.
When I got to my car, I was shaking so bad that I couldn’t get my key in the ignition to start it.
And then it was over. 3 hours later.
I did it.
I won. I stuck it out. My boys won. I won.
We won. We did it. I did it.
I drove straight home. Heated up Little’s chicken and dumplings, hugged his stinky self and made my way to the bath tub.
We read for a little bit before bedtime. We’re reading The War of the Worlds by HG Wells. It was a nice distraction. After he finally decided to go to his room to sleep and I had a minute to reflect on my evening . I felt proud. Exhausted beyond explaining, but proud. Not like I haven’t made it thru every anxiety attack I’ve ever had. Because. I have. The first one resulted in a hospital trip. A crapton of doctor’s visits and many years later. I’m still here.
I guess, I was proud because I felt like I won. Like I successfully un armed my body’s out of control alarm system by reminding myself that I was not in danger. Only in discomfort.
Do you have anxiety/ panic attacks? What do you do to calm yourself?