What the Frel is Happening Here?

Shit is bad, folks. Be better than the people who are making it bad. Smile more. Listen more. Hand out kindness like it’s candy on Halloween. Vote. VOTE.

Every action adds to the balance of the world. Keep adding to the side of the good. Compliment people. A kind word about someone’s shoes can make a person’s day better.  It costs nothing and can add so much.

I’ve been locked up with anxiety. I go through bad spells when I get so overwhelmed by problems or events I freeze up. I do a deer in the headlights. It tends to work out for me as it does the deer. I wish I could get into it here, but I feel like it could hurt some of the things I’ve got going on.

Be most excellent to one another and leave a place better than you found it.

But instead of ranting about things actually affecting the world, I’m going to rant about something purely about me. I’m a good, not self centered  person.

Let’s discuss anxiety and how we might all have it, some of us have a special flavored Big Gulp sized batch of it.

First, all anxiety sucks. Please don’t think I’m trying to down play anyone’s struggle. I just hope to explain why some things people say to us Big Gulpers is inappropriate and potentially dangerous.

Everyone I know has anxiety. It is a part of life unfortunately, but not everyone has the same anxiety. Now, I don’t want to start a pissing contest about my anxiety is worse than Susie’s anxiety. That helps no one, but I think there is a misunderstanding about the different levels of anxiety, and why some people do have worse than normal, and it can have a huge effect on our lives.

To be more plain and less placative: I get sick of folk acting like I’m weak or stupid because my anxiety prevents me from doing so many things. My anxiety is clearly different from ‘normal’ anxiety.

I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder. It’s the Big Gulp of the anxiety world. I’ll share some examples.

I have about one panic attack a week. Last week was a panic attack sort of week, so I had several. I’ll describe two for you. The first one was so bad I had to actively try to focus on what we were watching because the second I let my grip loosen I would feel the strong urge to scream some wild, wordless scream while matched with the feeling I was buzzing all over just beneath my skin. I felt like I was made of bees.

Another one I had the next day was even worse in some ways. I had to hold firm to myself again because if I didn’t I felt like I was going wretch up my insides. It wasn’t standard nausea, it was more like my body wanted to void itself. It was scary and just messed up.

I’ve almost become an old hand at handling the more common type of terrible panic attack, but it doesn’t make it less awful. It is terrifying to not be able to catch your breath and have your heart race. It feels like you are going to die. I have to find something to focus on like a game or television. (I personally prefer Bob’s Burgers during a panic attack.) If I lose focus for too long the panic attack comes roaring back.

On Thanksgiving, I ended up in the Viking’s parent’s bathroom crying on the toilet and fighting like hell to not crawl between the toilet and sink like my mind was telling me to do. Later,  I asked the Viking for help so he stood between me and everyone and the loud noises so I didn’t lose it again.

Keep in mind I don’t have anything I can take for my panic attacks since rules at my mental health care group prevents me from getting anything like Xanax, and the Oklahoma Board of Health just put a lot of stupid terrible regulations on a medicine I think could help me a lot. So, panic attacks are me and Bob’s Burgers, baby.

Now, those are just the panic attacks. I have a step down level of anxiety. This form of anxiety is the kind I think most people identify with. It’s either situational (like going shopping) or just completely causeless (I should not be this anxious while making toast.) The effective varies between fear with a side of bitchiness to full blown fight or flight trigger.

Now, Karen (damn Karen), I know you have anxiety about your life. I know it is awful. I think it is amazing you can play through it.  Please stop treating me like I’m weak or lazy because you get anxious and you still manage and sometimes I just can’t. If you tell me one more time that everyone feels that way and it shouldn’t stop me, I might just rip out your hair. Karen, you win, you’re better than me.

The Viking is a god send. He is learning what I need when I’m panicking and does his best to provide it for me. My sweet, wonderful man still sometimes asks me what is causing my attack, like there has to be some logic to why it’s happening. My brain, it’s a little broken.

Damnit Karen.

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