10 Rules for Coping with Panic: Rule #2 (Part 2)
I was herded along to a blood donation table where I laid down and got comfy. They stuck me with the needle and I watched myself drain into a plastic bag.
I was herded along to a blood donation table where I laid down and got comfy. They stuck me with the needle and I watched myself drain into a plastic bag.
How in the world can I begin to dismiss the non-meaningful messages from my body and only focus on the meaningful ones? How can I even tell the difference?!
I understand that a rapid heartbeat is a normal part of panic. But it feels so abnormal and wrong. What if this is the one time where a medical emergency is presenting itself?
How do you cope with the sting of having a panic attack after a long period of panic-free living?
You know that an evil clown might jump out of the closet. You know that a sudden burst of evil laughter will probably pipe out of an overhead speaker. You don’t know the precise nature of what’s about to scare you, but you’re anticipating something — anything — nonetheless.
To make the past few days more tolerable, I’ve been hitting up the medicine cabinet — but staying mindful about what I put into my body. Like many other panic sufferers, I’m always a bit nervous when I take any sort of medicine. What if it makes me hyper? What if it makes me nervous? What if it makes me panic?
Check out those sweet shades they gave me so that I wouldn’t get toothdust in my eyes. In combination with all of that dental stuff coming out of my mouth, I sort of look bionic.
I could have used a good hug on the night of my own first panic attack, so I was ready to dole out dozens, if needed, for her. If I couldn’t give hugs, I could at least lend an ear and some advice.
It was raining, and I was feeling panicked. The sky was dark. Target’s front doors, let alone the pharmacy counter itself, were uncomfortably far away. For a few minutes, I sat in silence with the car running, unsure if I should even attempt to walk inside or if I should play it safe and drive away.
What happens when you become anxious about the fact that you have panic attacks? What happens when you begin to panic about the fact that you’re anxious? Put simply, you end up stuck in a loop that’s rather difficult to dismantle. (It’s so meta.)