After The Goethal's Bridge

I've been informed by my husband that the bridge in question (the one I had my first panic attack - see older blog "I'm Just Saying") was actually the Outer Bridge Crossing. I must have blocked it out.  After driving over the bridge I experienced a panic attack.  From there I began to feel panicky. It is a cycle that is difficult to break - feeling worried about potentially feeling anxiety causes more and more anxiety.  I am nothing if not a solution seeker and so I felt compelled to seek the help of a therapist. This therapist who I saw only twice, changed my life.

He did two, actually three, wonderful things for me:

1) He told me to try an anti-depressant.  This wise psychologist wasn't the first person to suggest an anti-depressant for my PMS. I had a prescription in my wallet, but he was the one who convinced me that it would help me. I finally reached the point where I believed it. We all know the stigma attached to it and I know many women would not consider it as an option, but for me I was ready to try.

2) He taught me to visualize and breathe deeply INTO the fear. Ahh what a relief. There is nothing to fear but fear itself (so I've heard) and that is how I approached it. As my heart beat too quickly I breathed in and out and visualized breathing in soft blue and breathing out yukky gray. I remembered the fears I had as a young girl and realized that as adults we are afraid of fear. I knew I would not die from anxiety - that it is a reaction your body produces. That was helpful to me.

3) He told me to say 'no' once in awhile. Mmmm, could it be connected in any way?- my desire to please everyone around me when inside I am screaming? He planted the seed on that one - still in progress.

I realized that my PMS was not completely hormone related. I had to accept that my life issues (at this crucial juncture I was moving to the West Coast) were exacerbated by my hormonal issues.  My inability to cope with the anxiety of my approaching move, trying to tie all my loose ends in life, reassuring close friends, calming the fears of my children, leaving my family, were finally bubbling up into a place that I could not contain. That is why I consider anxiety a gift. It lets you know in no uncertain terms that you are done. Take a look! Look whats going on here! You are stressed!!! There is no way around it.

That was a turning point for me. I was very fragile. Looking over a railing in the mall caused my heart to beat quickly. Driving, once a common practice, now was a battle between being hyper-aware that I was driving and breathing deeply. Not fun I tell you, but from there I started to pay a little more closer attention to my life.

The medicine put me into a better place. I played with dosages, took it different times during the month (with the help of a doctor!) and moved on with my life. I felt better able to cope. I didn't feel particularly different, just more like I thought a normal person should feel. That was my first step toward dealing with my monthly highs and lows. The story continues.
p.s. this is a picture of me and Meg around that time. Just liked it.