About a week ago I had a panic attack unlike any I have ever experienced before.

That means a lot coming from someone who has been dealing with epic anxiety for most of their adult life.  I have been an incredibly nervous person since I can remember -  at least since I left home at 18.  What can I say?  Life scares the crap out of me.  Not sometimes, but all the time.  I manage to function as a normal human being because at some point around the two thousandth attack that made my chest tighten up and my brain want to explode I realized that I was kinda maybe sort of a little used to it. I got so good at covering up my weird anxieties that I could be wigging out right next to someone and they would never even know it.

The freakish nightmare that happened to me last Monday was not anything I had dealt with before.  I was on my way to work in the morning feeling fine as wine when all of a sudden I blinked and did not know where I was.  I had no idea what street I was on or if I was even in the vicinity of my office.  I tried to tighten my fingers around the steering wheel to bring my world back into focus, only to find that my hands were completely numb – and frozen stiff like tree branches. If someone had struck my fingers at that moment I imagine they would have just snapped right off and fallen to the floorboards.

I couldn’t feel the wheel.  I couldn’t feel the gas pedal.  What I COULD feel was the ice pick being slowly driven into my forehead right behind my eyes.  I didn’t feel like my breathing was erratic.  Actually, I felt like I was trying to breath through water – like I would drown in my car before I found out where I was or how I got there.  It hurt to roll my eyes up enough to see the street signs – it felt like my sockets were lined with sandpaper and my eyelids were weighted down and tied to the tips of my shoes.

My normal tactic would be to forcibly slow my breathing by berating myself inside my head like a school teacher would a misbehaving child.  In this instance however, if I employed that tactic in all likelihood my breathing would probably stop, this story would be a lot shorter and most likely written in the back pages of the newspaper along with my birth date and next of kin.  Over the years I have gotten really good at bossing myself into submission but this time I just didn’t have the energy.  I can’t believe I didn’t stop the car.

After what seemed like a herculean effort I managed to look up long enough to read by a street sign that I was still on a main road – just way the heck past where I needed to have turned.  Luckily enough I was out from the industrial part of the area and moving back into suburbia so there was hardly any traffic on the street.  That was a good thing since I was driving about twelve miles an hour on a 40MPH road.

You might think that once I snapped back into a normal frame of mind and realized that I was just having a panic attack that the feeling would return to my hands – but you would be incorrect.  I had to turn the car around using my forearms and elbows and the gas/brake effect with completely numb feet was so jerky I am certain I looked like marionette who’s strings had snapped on one side.

As luck would have it I had only driven about five minutes out of my way so I was only marginally late to work and the normally congested road was blessedly empty.  I had the air conditioning on full blast with the windows down for that entire five minutes though, and it was still not enough to keep the beads of sweat from rolling down my face and neck and trickling down my arms.  The sleeves of my dress were damp.  I don’t remember how I got into the building – or how long I lay motionless and slumped over my desk but I remember I heard the voice of my co-worker next to my head at some point.  Not only did she call my husband at his office, but she drove me home and got me in the house.

The rest of that morning is really kind of foggy – the exhaustion that hits once you realize that you don’t have to stay awake anymore is something that cannot be ignored.  I didn’t fall asleep so much as shut down and awoke nearly four hours later slightly shaky and empty.  I still had no clue what had happened to me.  I did know one thing for certain though, that was not my normal panic attack.

As someone who has spent a long time carefully cultivating a normal life out of something that was clearly abnormal – this was beyond my scope.  While most of my anxieties are private – between my home, my husband and myself – this was not.  It was very public, very dangerous, and I could very well have gotten seriously injured if I had been anywhere else.

I can only thank God for the series of events that occurred so that I could get home safely.  Especially my coworker – who drove me home without a single judgmental look or word.  She only showed the concern of a friend who can drive a half hour out of her way and back again without blinking an eye about it.  I am truly a blessed individual.  It does, however, give me pause because my life is not just about me.  I have a husband and young son that rely on me to be there. I owe it to my family to take this very seriously and find a way to manage the stress that had so clearly pushed me straight over the edge without even realizing that I had been on the brink.

I’m thinking acupuncture.

Or just not hanging out with people that force their negative emotions on me because I am “the strong one”.  I have since laid a few ground rules for anyone who wishes to even associate with me on anything deeper than an “acquaintance” level.

Do not ask me a question if you do not want a truthful answer.  I say how it is, sometimes without a shred of tact.  I admit that.  It is not news I have always been that way.  Anyone who knows me knows that the reason that I prefer to write about my feelings rather than talk about them is because you cannot edit words when they are out of your mouth.  I will tell you you are wrong and that thing you just did was stupid even while the tears are still running down your face.  I am not being mean on purpose – but you asked.

Do not manipulate me in order to force an outcome that you want.  Once you enrage me – on your behalf or not – you cannot flip the “off” switch when you change your mind or decide that you are not angry anymore.  It’s another reason boys and girls should not discuss every fight they have with their significant other with their parents.  They will make decisions based on the story you tell so be very very careful how you tell it.  Just because you make up doesn’t mean that I will.

I will not forget a single thing that you do that hurts me, my husband or most importantly my son in any way.  I may forgive, but I will not forget. This means that if you are one of those people that  think that you can continue to emotionally work me over when you need a fighter in your corner – and then when you get the response you want from other parties involved you throw me out the window until you need another heavy weight champion think again.

I can still care for others without being immersed in their misfortune.  I can pray for them within the warm confines of my own blissful home the same as I could while struggling under the heavy burden of their negative emotions.  Sometimes the healthiest relationships are the most distant ones.  Sometimes staying away from someone doesn’t mean that you don’t care.  It means that you care enough about them as well as yourself to put the necessary distance in between you.

What I TRULY know is that I need to maintain my health for the sake of my own family.  I cannot take on everyone elses burden because it effects my own happy home.  I need to get a handle on what happened to me last week because I only like to see a smile the sweet faces of my husband and son, and I guarantee that if I get stressed out to that point again the smiles will flip flop – and I will not be the focus of my husband’s angry stare.

He knows to whom he is married.   I tell him everything.  He knows just about every thought that flits through my mind and best of all – he knows me. And is still in love with me – go figure?

In the meantime, while I am implementing all of these snazzy new personal rules to keep myself from running crazily into the night,  I am looking for a good guided meditation.  Something to help me clean out all the rubbish and shake off the woes of the world.  I know that when I try basic meditation exercises by myself it is impossible for me to blank out my mind.

Did I leave the oven on? Did I brush my teeth? That is a loud car outside. Did the boy make a noise or am I hearing things? I hope the cat isn’t getting on the counter right now.  My ankle hurts.  My armpit itches. I have a wedgie. I have to pee.  This is boring.  I’m bored.

True Story.  It’s like that in my head all. the. time.  I’m like a five year old.

Actually what I am is bone tired.  Reliving that terrifying experience just sapped the strength out of me.

God willing it won’t happen again.