I can almost feel the vibration of the steel rails against
my back, it’s growing in intensity, just as this primal desperation to somehow
get up, “GET UP, RUN! GO! What the hell are you waiting for? What’s wrong with
you?” I feel utterly overwhelmed and
helpless as to how to break the chains that seemingly have me bound to my
death, I have no concept or thoughts on how to escape, nor how to just succumb to
my obvious fate…the only emotion I can focus on is doom. This is it, this is how
it ends.
The vibrations are
growing, with no break in the waves, and I can hear the whistle now too, I
couldn’t before because my mind was so focused on the physical sensations of
being trapped, tied down, with an overwhelming feeling of vulnerability and
catastrophe, like an out of body experience, except, that’s ALL I could feel –
hyper acutely, EVERY sensation of my body, at a rapid fire rate. My jaw
clenched, heart racing, ears ringing, and the innate sense that this is the
fear felt when end of life is imminent.
Sometimes a few of the physical sensations change, and my
focus is more on my heartrate, or my mental state (surely this is what going
insane must feel like?) or it’s an extra-exhilarating experience when it
happens while driving, especially with your kid in the car (everyone loves
sarcasm, right?). Have I mentioned how I don’t greet, “exhilarating experiences”
with excitement? Yeah, that’ s a “no” for me. If I did, if I was a thrill
-seeker, I venture to say, I wouldn’t have panic attacks. I’d welcome them. I’d
look forward to the adrenaline, the rush, the ride. The adventure of it all, the
enlightenment that may come from the endless “Why” (Why here, why now, why at
all?) but, alas, I think I got my fill of “unknowns” probably by the age of 14.
Yea, I know, that makes me sound about as
interesting as concrete. To each his own…
Growing up, I thought (like we all do as kids) that I lived
the typical experience, but as I explore the recent sudden loss of my Mom, I’m
learning (through talking with a great grief counselor), I experienced a fair
amount of trauma -well beyond the trauma associated with coming from an
otherwise “healthy,” divorced family
(side note: I am by no means advocating that coming from a divorced family
equates to an “unhealthy” family, just as I’m not saying coming from an intact “unhealthy”
family provides some faux buffer) One person’s trauma may be another’s non-issue;
God wired us all different and some of us may be more seasoned in coping mechanisms
than others, I get it. But for me, I think between those exposures and my natural
“be in control of yourself”/ “careful’ personality, one that prefers more security
and predictability than wild abandon, struggling with panic and anxiety attacks
on and off since my early adulthood – isn’t too hard understand. Life is unpredictable. Bad things do happen to
good people, feelings go somewhere. If you don’t deal with them “then” they don’t
magically dissipate, they go somewhere (explosive anger outbursts, numbing with
drugs/alcohol to keep those pesky/uncomfortable feelings in check, multiple
unhealthy relationships, loose boundaries, enmeshment, etc…) Pick your poison
people (and we all have ‘em) some of us just aren’t as transparent and willing
to get them all “parade-ready” to prance across your monitor screen like me. Oh,
and you’re welcome. 😊
While I’ve always known grief is a personal process and no
two experiences the same; I didn’t realize that the emotions attached to it,
may seem completely atypical. Crying, tears, sadness, yes… .these are all well
universally accepted and expected reactions. For me, the first 2 months I had far less of
that and a whole heaping helping, southern-Grandma style of panic attacks. And
I’m not trying to brag here, but they were pretty damn impressive at that!
While driving with your kiddo on I35? “Oh yea! “While sitting in church, “Mmmm,
my favorite, thanks God!” In the middle of a work meeting? “Hey who doesn’t
love trying to contain sheer panic while positive you look like a meth addict
for fidgeting in your seat trying to get yourself in check with the life and
death matter playing out in your head, all while giving a project update. Talk
about multitasking? Good times. Um huh, the best!
Recently, things are slowly starting to shift for me, the
panic/anxiety hasn’t completely left my life, but it doesn’t direct my life it
was for a spell there, with great support, I am learning to make time for
feelings. Like, in an intentional, sacrificial way- kind of time. I’m a doer people,
a survivor – for 44+ years now, I press on, make the most of it and as that “Bad
News Bears” look alike cutie yelled at me as I hoofed it around that
wood floor skating rink in Roswell, GA some 32+ years ago, “Keep
on Trucking” Side note: Is it sad this nameless, random strangers words all those years
ago, still rank as one of my Top 5 “Yea Me” moments? Or that I even have “Yea
Me” moments at all? I do. It’s part of my self care, as I kinda tend to be
pretty rough on myself due to high expectations, but I’m
working on that every.dang.day.
Here’s my new challenge, to surrender. When we give negative
thoughts/words/emotions power, that’s when things get sideways…quickly. Whether it be negative self
talk, hatred towards others/ourselves, Those emotions can overwhelm, stifle, and
skew reality. Surrender isn’t a word I’ve given much credence to in the past. To be honest, it had a bit of a negative connotation to me, (after all my
husband even credited my “bad assery” in our wedding vows, I have a reputation
to uphold here!), but I’m learning that
anything you ‘hate’ about yourself or others plants shame and other emotions
that gain fuel and even greater power.
So, I’m challenging myself and I’d like to challenge you too - try surrendering. No, it is not
easy, and no this isn’t a “get out of jail card” for inaction either. It’s an
active, engaged action, a verb. I’ll save you diehards a Wiki
search:
Surrender
Verb
Cease resistance to an enemy or opponent and submit to their
authority.
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