Back From Falling: Part 2

To say life has changed since I started sharing my story would be an understatement.  For the most part, certainly for the better.  However it would be a lie to say on occasion I don't find myself overwhelmed, not with any of the events or engagements but more so with those passing moments that remind me I am now completely exposed.  That safe little world I have learned to "cope" in is no longer.  People look to see how I am, if I'm having a bad day, whereas before they didn't know to.  Very few people had any idea of what I was going through, so hiding behind the excuse of being too busy was simple for me.  I could suffer in silence.

I went home over the Holidays, back to Kincardine with my family, and seemingly felt I had earned the "right" to just shut down.  I just wanted to lay around, watch movies, indulge in great food and excessive baked goods, and just take time "off".  This is a fair desire and one we all feel.  However it's not possible in my world, I cannot embrace complacency and "shut down" so to speak.

By the middle of last week I started feeling the familiar heart palpitations, the troubles breathing normally, dizziness,  the overall chaos that defines my anxiety and panic.  I ignored it, moving from bed to couch and back to bed.  Justifying it as "real time off".  By the time I was to drive back to Toronto, having not left my parents house in a week, I was faced with a familiar "fear".  I questioned my ability to get in my car alone and venture back to the city.  I brushed it aside, packed up and came back.

The drive wasn't as horrible as it used to be (when I first "got sick"), I was able to get through it uncomfortably, although I found myself drained and emotional upon getting home and landed on the couch at my house the second I arrived.  That was December 30th. I spent the next couple of days aware that I was feeling "off".  Not doing much more than laying around and waiting for it to pass.  The very familiar "not wanting to leave my house" and fearing something was going to happen was surfacing. New Years Eve was slept away, New Years Day dedicated to the TV.  By the 2nd I realized what was happening, the anxiety and panic were starting to dictate my thoughts.  I felt drained and on edge.  Then it becomes a battle within, how could I let myself get to this?  I know better!  Why wasn't I doing the simple things, working out, eating right, taking my meds on time, vitamins, supplements, meditation, yoga, talking to somebody?  That familiar feeling of failure and embarrassment is hard to keep at bay in moments like these.

By the 3rd I had accepted it was time to act.  I picked up the phone and called my parents.  They have seen me here.  They know this well.  After all these years the reassurance of knowing I have been here before, and far worse off, is still a huge motivator.  I am not dying.  I am not beyond coping or "out of recovery".  There is a simple explanation, I stopped taking care of myself and needed to change that, quickly.

To Be Continued...