And then it got silent for a while. Quite a long while. My excuses are a few disappointing happenings. Here I was, going through life thinking, hey I’m doing so much better, these anti-depressants are working. Ok, I still freak out over some weird stuff but I have it under control. Sort of… Full swagger on, super confident. Of course, then it happened, I got stung by an unidentified insect on the day before my mini camping vacation and in my case this meant, full on anxiety attack.
What happened was the following. I was rummaging through the coats, as you do when in a hurry and owner of a lot of coats, then out of the blue, I got bitten in my finger by a yet to be identified creature. Normally speaking you look at the bite, think whatever, and move on. I thought WTF, what if I’m allergic? How do I know I’m allergic? I am sooo going to die! (please feel free to laugh, I do now too)
Of course, it was the weekend and I could not call the doctors assistant that knows and not exactly loves me but does usually take the time to calm me down. Instead, I called the doctors central and had 43 people waiting before me. It says something about my level and duration of panic that I actually waited this out (50 minutes of hyper ventilation and pacing) to be told by a very kind and understanding woman that if my face was not swollen I should be fine.
Safe to say, that I checked for hours if my face showed any swelling. I got over that though. What took longer was for the anxiety fuelled adrenaline maelstrom to leave my body. That can take a few days and sometimes even weeks. You feel too hyper alert and aware of all the shit going on in your body and around you to stay calm.
I did not have much time since camping was planned for the next day. I postponed a bit, then drugged myself with Oxazepam and got on the road. It was quite an ordeal, the first days I was still in freak mode, which meant little food and little rest. But the Kid loved every minute of it and that is worth some freaking out sometimes. And after a few days of getting my bearings and starting to feel safe and grounded in myself again, I started to enjoy it too and was sad to go home again.
The fact that I went camping makes my Therapist say: “Soo great and brave you went anyway”. Which is nice of her. But I am pissed off and fucking disappointed that I have to keep on fighting this battle. The battle against, or with, my own thoughts. When I forget about it for a bit, it creeps up and a darn insect bite, that should be no big deal becomes a life-threatening disaster that stays with me for what seems like forever. I am sure there are worse things, but sometimes I feel childish and just want to stomp my feet in pure frustration.
Letting it go now though, that is more then enough sad-sacking for me. As per doctor’s instructions I now have to up my dose of Citalopram with 10 milligram which brings me to a whopping 30 mg per day. Otherwise it’s like mopping with the tap open apparently*. Of course, she prescribed this 2 weeks ago and I am still just staring at the pills every morning thinking, nope not today. I am not ready. So yes, that is what I have been doing while not blogging. Staring at pills and wallowing in self pity.
Done with that now though.. onwards and upwards!