My mom is a snoop. :) Well, that's what I call her anyway, just jokingly of course. Really, she's a people watcher. She likes to know what's going on in her neighborhood, keep a watchful eye, and definitely doesn't like to be snuck up on. We spend a lot of time in our living room which has two big windows facing our street. We're tucked away in a cozy subdivision with houses around and not much traffic at all. However, if a car goes by slower than normal, my mom knows about it, she senses it! She'll lean forward in her seat, crane her neck to look outside and see what way they're going or if they're pulling in our driveway. If someone walks past, she goes to the window and looks out the blinds. She doesn't do this in a true "creeper" way, not to be scary or anything. In fact there have been a couple of times she has noticed something or someone amiss, and has informed people or gotten help. It's not constant or all day, she just happens to notice things when she glances out the window, or while sitting in the living room. My mom simply likes to know what's going on, where people are going, and she definitely doesn't like anyone to come to the door without her knowing (the "house has to be clean" and "makeup has to be on" type of woman). Like I said, she's a people watcher.
I think this is where part of my paranoia in my exposure therapy comes from. When I get up in the morning and think about how I'm going to make a change to better myself today, I think about getting out of the house, going for a drive, or a walk. Then I look around at the neighborhood. Who's home? Who's outside? Who could be watching me? Judging me for my short drive down the street and back and wondering why I do this and what could possibly be wrong with me? Any normal person could do something like this and not think twice about it. Why would anyone be watching me? I'm not that important. People have better things to do. Plus, who cares if they see me, or what they think. Bottom line, who goes to the window, watches someone go by, and wonders what they're doing?
My mother. That's who.
Even though I rationally know that the larger majority of people are too busy and just don't care or notice what others are doing, what I've always seen is that my mother does. I guess I just kind of figure that if she makes it a point to know who's walking by and if people came home late, then other people must do the same.
In an effort to be able to expose myself to being away from my home and to do so alone, I've been taking short walks. I usually bring my puppy Benny, and try to walk him down to the neighbors mailbox, and then back past my house to the next neighbors mailbox. So basically I take this walk that spans only three yards. The plan in my mind was to start this and go a little farther each time, but my fear of getting farther away and having a panic attack paired with my paranoia that people are watching me do this, has hindered that plan. It's also what has kept me from trying to go for drives again. When I started going for drives last year, it took one time around the block and from then on I was going farther everyday with little to no fear. I didn't wonder if people were watching me when I was actually making it off my street before turning around. But here I am again, needing somewhere to start, and I really want to just go the next driveway, or down the street and turn around at first, but I wonder if people are watching and if they think I'm crazy for taking a drive down the street.
I've never been a person who really cared what anyone thought of me or what I was doing, but agoraphobia has changed that a bit. I don't want people to think I'm crazy or silly for the small ventures in my exposures, but I also can't use that as an excuse anymore.
I guess my best bet is to just walk a little farther and to get in the car and drive down the street and back just the way I want, watchers and judgments be darned. Besides, the one person who would even be watching, will probably be in the passenger seat. My mom, what a snoop. :)
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Groundhog Day
Ahhh the joys of summer. I can't even begin to describe how much easier and pleasant life became when the mercury hit 70 degrees and stayed above that number. My family affectionately refers to me as the "lizard" because I just love sitting in the heat and sun and soaking it all up.
Of course, as an agoraphobic, summer can be a bit of a downer as well. While everyone is out having fun, sharing vacation photos, going to the pool, heck, even just going for walks, I am confined to my yard and house, watching as it seems like everyone else is having the time of their lives. It's extra frustrating when thinking back on what summers used to mean for me. For the larger majority of my life they meant staying outside from morning to night, swimming in the pool, being with friends, going for long drives, taking road trips with the family to nearby cities, playing softball, etc. It always meant barbecues and fireworks, Old Settler's picnics and family reunions, baseball and boys, windows down and a/c up, celebration and freedom.
Instead, I now live "Groundhog Day". Remember that movie? The one where Bill Murray gets caught in a time loop, living Groundhog Day over and over again. Well, call me Phil and color me crazy, because I'm in that time loop, only time's not waiting for me. Every day, more or less the same. I get up, work out, eat breakfast, get ready, and basically putter the day away as if I'm standing around waiting for a bus. I know, I know, what a pity party. No, I don't think this is horrible. I know for a fact my days could be spent much worse, they have been. I get a lot done most days, between the dishes, laundry, mowing, etc. Yes, all the chores get done, but where's the fun? Where's the heart of summer? Where's the life?
It's not completely hopeless. I get up everyday with the hope that today will be different. I'll try a little harder, I'll make it a point to get out, go for a drive, and take the first step to getting my summer and my life back. And then, time passes, the day passes, and before you know it it's eleven o'clock at night. There I am, puzzled as to where the day went, as if I spent all that get up and go in a revolving door for 12 hours. "Where did my initial drive for change go from this morning to now? Why didn't I get out? Why didn't I drive? Excuses? What excuses? It was vital that I spend two hours falling into a Youtube rabbit hole this evening pretending my problems don't exist. How could I have possibly skipped that and insisted someone go for a drive with me? Sigh. How am I ever going to get better? I'll do better tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow. I'll do better, I promise. " Morning comes. Groundhog Day...again.
The whole thing is ridiculous primarily because...I know how it works! I know that if I just get my butt in the car and go for a drive, even just around the block, it will spark a downhill spiral into more exposure therapy. The first step is always the hardest. I know this. I've done it before. I've seen it work! Why can't I convince myself to just jump in with both feet and do what I have to to get better, because this is no way to live. Everyday the same. Everyday ending in upset and defeat. Maybe I'll do better tomorrow, you know, on Groundhog Day.
Of course, as an agoraphobic, summer can be a bit of a downer as well. While everyone is out having fun, sharing vacation photos, going to the pool, heck, even just going for walks, I am confined to my yard and house, watching as it seems like everyone else is having the time of their lives. It's extra frustrating when thinking back on what summers used to mean for me. For the larger majority of my life they meant staying outside from morning to night, swimming in the pool, being with friends, going for long drives, taking road trips with the family to nearby cities, playing softball, etc. It always meant barbecues and fireworks, Old Settler's picnics and family reunions, baseball and boys, windows down and a/c up, celebration and freedom.
Instead, I now live "Groundhog Day". Remember that movie? The one where Bill Murray gets caught in a time loop, living Groundhog Day over and over again. Well, call me Phil and color me crazy, because I'm in that time loop, only time's not waiting for me. Every day, more or less the same. I get up, work out, eat breakfast, get ready, and basically putter the day away as if I'm standing around waiting for a bus. I know, I know, what a pity party. No, I don't think this is horrible. I know for a fact my days could be spent much worse, they have been. I get a lot done most days, between the dishes, laundry, mowing, etc. Yes, all the chores get done, but where's the fun? Where's the heart of summer? Where's the life?
It's not completely hopeless. I get up everyday with the hope that today will be different. I'll try a little harder, I'll make it a point to get out, go for a drive, and take the first step to getting my summer and my life back. And then, time passes, the day passes, and before you know it it's eleven o'clock at night. There I am, puzzled as to where the day went, as if I spent all that get up and go in a revolving door for 12 hours. "Where did my initial drive for change go from this morning to now? Why didn't I get out? Why didn't I drive? Excuses? What excuses? It was vital that I spend two hours falling into a Youtube rabbit hole this evening pretending my problems don't exist. How could I have possibly skipped that and insisted someone go for a drive with me? Sigh. How am I ever going to get better? I'll do better tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow. I'll do better, I promise. " Morning comes. Groundhog Day...again.
The whole thing is ridiculous primarily because...I know how it works! I know that if I just get my butt in the car and go for a drive, even just around the block, it will spark a downhill spiral into more exposure therapy. The first step is always the hardest. I know this. I've done it before. I've seen it work! Why can't I convince myself to just jump in with both feet and do what I have to to get better, because this is no way to live. Everyday the same. Everyday ending in upset and defeat. Maybe I'll do better tomorrow, you know, on Groundhog Day.
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Red Rover, Red Rover...
Do you remember the first time you played Red Rover as a kid? You went running outside, reveling in your freedom from the classroom, when in a rare moment of solidarity all the kids decide to get together to create the human fence and try to prevent members of the other team that you called over from breaking through. It was always such a thrill to see them huddle up and think of who would be the next person to come up against their fortress of linked arms. They'd link back up and the chant began, "RED ROVER, RED ROVER, SEND *Enter Name* RIGHT OVER!" Oh and when they said your name, your heart skipped with excitement. For me, I knew their motive. It may have been a little twisted to think this way as a kid, but I looked at all the possibilities. I knew better than to think that their choice of having me come right ever was less about any popularity I could have acquired and more about my weakness. I was an easy target. I was always a skinny little stick figure kid, not a lot of strength on me that could break through a wall of people. So while everyone else thought, "Yay! They want me!", I thought "They think I can't do it...Bet me." I adored the challenge of sizing up my competition, looking for just the right link to break through, and going for it. While most of the time my 65 lb (soaking wet) body didn't make it through the locked muscles of my opponent, on occasion I would surprise the whole lot of them and burst right through. Hurling myself forward as fast and heavy as I could muster and feeling that satisfaction in knowing that I had beat them at their own game. They thought I was weak. They though I wouldn't make it. They thought that there was no way that little body could break through any barrier they put up against me. They thought that they could intimidate me by being this unified force field. Now, I wonder if Red Rover has ever met it's twin, desensitization.
It's essentially the same concept. You wait and wait for the right moment to tackle the fear, you look for it's weakest points first, and when it's finally your turn to try to break through it you have to muster up all the strength that your little body can find. Sometimes you'll break through effortlessly, sometimes it'll be tougher, and sometimes it'll catch you and throw you backwards. Sometimes the idea of tackling it will seems exciting, and the second you start running it'll be terrifying. But no matter what, it'll make you feel like a small child again.
It half kills you start. I know for me I had to go through the stages of grief. Isolation obviously, but denial lasted the longest. How does 19 years of social experience vanish in a matter of weeks? And how do you get it back after it seems gone forever? You would never dream that something, of which you hadn't even realized that you'd acquired, could be taken from you and that it being gone would have such a devastating impact on your life.
If you have read any of the previous posts in this blog, then you know that I became agoraphobic at the age of 19, which is also the same age I quit taking all medications for my anxiety. You would also know that I started EFT therapy and have been working on desensitization continuously since last year. In my last update on this, I was working from home and had a friend over a couple of times, both of which were great glimmers of hope. Let's talk about since then....
Since my last update A LOT has happened. First, I started seeing someone. I reconnected with a guy that I met in passing long ago and we began talking everyday, first through Facebook, then daily phone calls, then Skype. I found him to be so understanding of my situation that it was shocking. He looked at the silver linings of my situation (who knew there was any). He saw that it made me stronger and liked me more for my determination to get better. I couldn't have asked for anything more. It was the beginning of July when we decided it was time to be around each other in person, so on the 4th of July, we had our first "date" (my first date in 5 years). He came to my house where we sat out in the backyard, watched some fireworks, and had a bonfire. This was a HUGE deal for me and an even bigger deal when I found myself to be so calm. Calm. It wasn't a word or a feeling that I expected to feel when this moment came. I know every agoraphobic is different but for me having anyone over was a huge deal as it is, but someone who was specifically here to see me, and someone I like romantically?! I was amazed at how easy being around him was. I had not felt this much like myself in years. While him and I have decided not to be together for the time being, it was still amazing to get to have that again. It also led to me being able to have more people over again, including family that I hadn't seen in so long.
I've also been getting out much more. It's shocking to think that it was just last year when I was having a hard time driving around the block, even with a "safe" person with me. Now, my safe person and I drive 30 minutes away to the city, I am able to calmly drive through most traffic and traffic lights (used to be a trigger for me), and am now going into stores again! I have now been in about 12 different stores (some more than once), getting more and more comfortable as I go in them. Last week, my mother and I spent 45 minutes in a store that I hadn't been in in years, which is a huge deal, and I actually enjoyed it. Now don't get me wrong. This process has been met with bumps in the road. At one point when driving in the city, I panicked while sitting at a stop light in busy intersection, and it deterred me from driving through traffic lights for a long while. I had to build back up to that again. I also had a bad experience at one trip to a store. I had went in a different store the day before and was so confident at the experience I had, that I went all the way to the back of the store, pretty far away from the exit. When I was feeling anxious and wanted to move back towards the front, my safe person tried to distract me and keeping looking at what she was looking at, but it only got worse. After that, I was very cautious about staying close to the door, which made for not so fun trips. More recently I have been getting comfortable with moving away from the door and exploring more of the stores. I even went into the mall the other day which was great, it had been so long since I'd even tried that. Sure, we look like we're going to steal something the way we meander around the stores like two lost sheep, but little does anyone else know, I'm practicing. That innate social part of me has to be taught how to react again. When I try to explain to someone what this is like I say that in the moment, desensitizing is like training for the mental Olympics, and boy is it exhausting. But, the bigger picture looks more like these grown adults who get brain injuries and forget how to walk, and have to learn all over again. It's something so basic, an innate ability, that has to be learned again in adulthood, when you really don't remember how you learned it in the first place. And you have to be the one to start the fight. I started with driving around the block and built it up day by day until I was actually among the public again, and it feels amazing, yes exhausting, but amazing.
So I suppose the old recess game held more meaning than we ever knew. It taught us more about life than we thought, or at least it did for me. It taught that you have to see your target, get excited, and run like hell. When you get pushed back, you learn from it, get back up and run again. When you make it through, well...you learn from it and do it again. You keep breaking through until you've beat it all. You keep running towards this scary idea, knowing that it looks like you could get pushed down, but knowing that you have all the strength you need to make it. I still have a long way to go. I have to learn to do everything I've learned so far again, but this time alone. I have to get to the point where none of this is practice anymore. I still have a lot of fight. And every time the fear starts, "RED ROVER, RED ROVER..." It will have no idea what's coming to it.
It's essentially the same concept. You wait and wait for the right moment to tackle the fear, you look for it's weakest points first, and when it's finally your turn to try to break through it you have to muster up all the strength that your little body can find. Sometimes you'll break through effortlessly, sometimes it'll be tougher, and sometimes it'll catch you and throw you backwards. Sometimes the idea of tackling it will seems exciting, and the second you start running it'll be terrifying. But no matter what, it'll make you feel like a small child again.
It half kills you start. I know for me I had to go through the stages of grief. Isolation obviously, but denial lasted the longest. How does 19 years of social experience vanish in a matter of weeks? And how do you get it back after it seems gone forever? You would never dream that something, of which you hadn't even realized that you'd acquired, could be taken from you and that it being gone would have such a devastating impact on your life.
If you have read any of the previous posts in this blog, then you know that I became agoraphobic at the age of 19, which is also the same age I quit taking all medications for my anxiety. You would also know that I started EFT therapy and have been working on desensitization continuously since last year. In my last update on this, I was working from home and had a friend over a couple of times, both of which were great glimmers of hope. Let's talk about since then....
Since my last update A LOT has happened. First, I started seeing someone. I reconnected with a guy that I met in passing long ago and we began talking everyday, first through Facebook, then daily phone calls, then Skype. I found him to be so understanding of my situation that it was shocking. He looked at the silver linings of my situation (who knew there was any). He saw that it made me stronger and liked me more for my determination to get better. I couldn't have asked for anything more. It was the beginning of July when we decided it was time to be around each other in person, so on the 4th of July, we had our first "date" (my first date in 5 years). He came to my house where we sat out in the backyard, watched some fireworks, and had a bonfire. This was a HUGE deal for me and an even bigger deal when I found myself to be so calm. Calm. It wasn't a word or a feeling that I expected to feel when this moment came. I know every agoraphobic is different but for me having anyone over was a huge deal as it is, but someone who was specifically here to see me, and someone I like romantically?! I was amazed at how easy being around him was. I had not felt this much like myself in years. While him and I have decided not to be together for the time being, it was still amazing to get to have that again. It also led to me being able to have more people over again, including family that I hadn't seen in so long.
I've also been getting out much more. It's shocking to think that it was just last year when I was having a hard time driving around the block, even with a "safe" person with me. Now, my safe person and I drive 30 minutes away to the city, I am able to calmly drive through most traffic and traffic lights (used to be a trigger for me), and am now going into stores again! I have now been in about 12 different stores (some more than once), getting more and more comfortable as I go in them. Last week, my mother and I spent 45 minutes in a store that I hadn't been in in years, which is a huge deal, and I actually enjoyed it. Now don't get me wrong. This process has been met with bumps in the road. At one point when driving in the city, I panicked while sitting at a stop light in busy intersection, and it deterred me from driving through traffic lights for a long while. I had to build back up to that again. I also had a bad experience at one trip to a store. I had went in a different store the day before and was so confident at the experience I had, that I went all the way to the back of the store, pretty far away from the exit. When I was feeling anxious and wanted to move back towards the front, my safe person tried to distract me and keeping looking at what she was looking at, but it only got worse. After that, I was very cautious about staying close to the door, which made for not so fun trips. More recently I have been getting comfortable with moving away from the door and exploring more of the stores. I even went into the mall the other day which was great, it had been so long since I'd even tried that. Sure, we look like we're going to steal something the way we meander around the stores like two lost sheep, but little does anyone else know, I'm practicing. That innate social part of me has to be taught how to react again. When I try to explain to someone what this is like I say that in the moment, desensitizing is like training for the mental Olympics, and boy is it exhausting. But, the bigger picture looks more like these grown adults who get brain injuries and forget how to walk, and have to learn all over again. It's something so basic, an innate ability, that has to be learned again in adulthood, when you really don't remember how you learned it in the first place. And you have to be the one to start the fight. I started with driving around the block and built it up day by day until I was actually among the public again, and it feels amazing, yes exhausting, but amazing.
So I suppose the old recess game held more meaning than we ever knew. It taught us more about life than we thought, or at least it did for me. It taught that you have to see your target, get excited, and run like hell. When you get pushed back, you learn from it, get back up and run again. When you make it through, well...you learn from it and do it again. You keep breaking through until you've beat it all. You keep running towards this scary idea, knowing that it looks like you could get pushed down, but knowing that you have all the strength you need to make it. I still have a long way to go. I have to learn to do everything I've learned so far again, but this time alone. I have to get to the point where none of this is practice anymore. I still have a lot of fight. And every time the fear starts, "RED ROVER, RED ROVER..." It will have no idea what's coming to it.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Hello? I'm Still Here...
Well, haven't posted in a long time. I'm thinking I need to get back to it just for the catharsis. Since my last post, I've not only been a lot better but a lot worse. I got to the point where I was driving to the city, and even went into stores. Then, the storm came...literally.
Here in the Midwest, we're always prone to a decent severe thunderstorm in the spring/summer. In the spring of 2011, when I had been getting so much better at getting out, we had a quick and powerful storm. Why would this effect my recovery you ask? Well, anyone who knows me knows that I have a deep fear of tornadoes, so I never really take well to those crazy storms. This storm came quick, without much warning, and with lots of fear. It was late at night, and it seemed like within minutes of learning this storm was coming, we were rushing for our basement to take cover. We didn't get a tornado, but straight line winds were enough to make us think there was one, and to throw me into the type of panic attack I hadn't had in a VERY long time. It ended up not being a tornado, but straight line winds were so bad that it tore up a lot of things in the area, including ripping the roof off of our neighbors house. After it was over, one would think that that would be it, I was scared in the moment, but should be fine now, right? Wrong. Having that panic attack and being reminded of what it felt like completely shook my confidence, and slowly all my progress began to slip away, until I was again home bound and not even trying anymore.
That was all until last summer, when I kept seeing things on FB groups about Christian EFT for anxiety. I thought maybe it was a sign that I needed to look into this type of therapy, and finally I did. The woman who helped others through this offered the first session for free, so I figured that I had nothing to lose, and I could do this all over the phone. After the first session, I decided this was something I wanted to stick with, so I've been having weekly (twice a week at first) sessions with her. If you don't know what EFT is, I encourage you to look into it. It's a therapy in which you use the acupuncture technique to relieve the stress and anxiety we hold in the energy meridians in our bodies. Now, it sounds crazy, I know, but it works. My therapy is Christian focused which makes it even better to me, and since I've started I've made a lot of progress. Where I was struggling just to drive around the block with someone riding with me, I am now driving a half hour away to the city with someone riding alon, going through stop-lights, and am now preparing again to start going into stores. At the end of last summer, I even had a friend over to visit a couple of times, both that lasted for a few hours, and were very calm situations (particularly for not having had a friend over to visit with me in about four years..yikes!).
I even started a new job last fall, albeit it's from home. I found a company that I could work for from home taking calls as a customer rep. While this may not sounds like any form of progress with my agoraphobia, it really is. When I first started, I was very scared. At one point a few years ago, I wasn't answering the home phone, and felt very nervous when I did have to talk to someone. Now, it's an everyday thing, and find it very easy to talk to all of these strangers all day.
So, this is really just a quick, readers digest version of what's been going on since my last post. I'm hoping to not only keep an update going of what I'm doing, but get a little more in depth with the whole process. It's completely daunting to think I have to basically rebuild my life from the ground up, and learn how to be the social, calm, and productive person I once was, but I'm doing it. I'm on my way, and I have complete faith that I won't stop until I get there. "There" seems to be just around the corner.
Here in the Midwest, we're always prone to a decent severe thunderstorm in the spring/summer. In the spring of 2011, when I had been getting so much better at getting out, we had a quick and powerful storm. Why would this effect my recovery you ask? Well, anyone who knows me knows that I have a deep fear of tornadoes, so I never really take well to those crazy storms. This storm came quick, without much warning, and with lots of fear. It was late at night, and it seemed like within minutes of learning this storm was coming, we were rushing for our basement to take cover. We didn't get a tornado, but straight line winds were enough to make us think there was one, and to throw me into the type of panic attack I hadn't had in a VERY long time. It ended up not being a tornado, but straight line winds were so bad that it tore up a lot of things in the area, including ripping the roof off of our neighbors house. After it was over, one would think that that would be it, I was scared in the moment, but should be fine now, right? Wrong. Having that panic attack and being reminded of what it felt like completely shook my confidence, and slowly all my progress began to slip away, until I was again home bound and not even trying anymore.
That was all until last summer, when I kept seeing things on FB groups about Christian EFT for anxiety. I thought maybe it was a sign that I needed to look into this type of therapy, and finally I did. The woman who helped others through this offered the first session for free, so I figured that I had nothing to lose, and I could do this all over the phone. After the first session, I decided this was something I wanted to stick with, so I've been having weekly (twice a week at first) sessions with her. If you don't know what EFT is, I encourage you to look into it. It's a therapy in which you use the acupuncture technique to relieve the stress and anxiety we hold in the energy meridians in our bodies. Now, it sounds crazy, I know, but it works. My therapy is Christian focused which makes it even better to me, and since I've started I've made a lot of progress. Where I was struggling just to drive around the block with someone riding with me, I am now driving a half hour away to the city with someone riding alon, going through stop-lights, and am now preparing again to start going into stores. At the end of last summer, I even had a friend over to visit a couple of times, both that lasted for a few hours, and were very calm situations (particularly for not having had a friend over to visit with me in about four years..yikes!).
I even started a new job last fall, albeit it's from home. I found a company that I could work for from home taking calls as a customer rep. While this may not sounds like any form of progress with my agoraphobia, it really is. When I first started, I was very scared. At one point a few years ago, I wasn't answering the home phone, and felt very nervous when I did have to talk to someone. Now, it's an everyday thing, and find it very easy to talk to all of these strangers all day.
So, this is really just a quick, readers digest version of what's been going on since my last post. I'm hoping to not only keep an update going of what I'm doing, but get a little more in depth with the whole process. It's completely daunting to think I have to basically rebuild my life from the ground up, and learn how to be the social, calm, and productive person I once was, but I'm doing it. I'm on my way, and I have complete faith that I won't stop until I get there. "There" seems to be just around the corner.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Can't Steal Second Base With Your Foot On First...
Things are happening...Big things! Wow things! I know I haven't posted in quite a while, and that's because there hadn't been much to post. So, for those of you who have read my previous posts, you know that I have now suffered from agoraphobia for about two years now. What you probably didn't know is that I haven't even taken a ride in a car in a year. A year! Nobody knows how wild that is for me! I used to love to drive and would take any opportunity to do so until all this happened and, for a year, I lost that. Well, it was a year...until now. For the past few months I've been really trying to work up the courage to go out, get in the car, and go somewhere, and days and days have passed to no avail. This has been extremely dissapointing, but has built me up to this day. About three weeks ago, the weather here in Illinois took an extremely spring-like turn, with temperatures reaching the upper 70's. Between this warm weather and the sunshine, my mood was uplifted and, more than ever, I wanted to be able to get in the car and go for a drive. My dad was getting ready to leave and needed a different car moved so he could, so I figured I could do that. However, when I backed the car out of the driveway to move it, I realized that I wanted to do more. So, I drove the car a little way down the street to a neighbor's driveway, turned around and came back. This might sound insanely small and insignificant, but it was well celebrated in my home. I drove a car again...by myself...and I left the driveway! This was what we thought to be a huge victory. Now, the weather here this time of year is about as consistant as Charlie Sheen's work schedule, the very next day it was gloomy, rainy, cold, and extremely windy, so I didn't try to drive anywhere else. I was dissapointed and fearful that my big accomplishment would be just that, ONE big accomplishment. If anybody knows anything about desensitization with agoraphobia, then you know that it's something that you have to keep up with everyday to really have an effect. But I kept my head up and hoped for another day. Yesterday was that other day. I was talking to my mom about how I would like to at least drive down the street and back, and she matter of factly said "Let's go." So, we did! A smidge reluctantly, I drove (she rode passenger) and when I made it down the street, my mom said, "I think you can go further." Mom knows best! I ended up going around the block! It sounds so small, but it made me cry tears of joy. Especially when my mom pointed out something about a house and I said, "Yeah, that's my friend Brian's house. I haven't seen that house in a year." I cried like a little girl...because I was out, driving, and best of all...I wasn't scared. It felt incredible. The day after, my main goal was to at least drive around that block again, maybe go around two blocks (kind of confusing, I live in a subdivision so they are awkward blocks). Instead, I drove around the entire subdivision! I saw houses that I hadn't seen in a year. I even went out on the highway next to our subdivision, which was a huge feat for me! Suddenly, on the highway, I noticed something was different. "This is a different road!" I yelled, "It's completely repaved!" THAT was how long it had been since I had been within a mile radius of my home. Again, I was not scared...just pure excitement. I thank God for every moment of this. It is the miracle and and answer to prayer that I and my family have been waiting for. A pure miracle. I have more to post to get you updated to today, but I will post the rest tomorrow. BIGGER accomplishments to come!
Saturday, June 5, 2010
To top it off...
Ok, part 3, and hopefully the last that brings us to present day.
So, these meds. that I was now on (Effexor and Lorazepam) were daily doing more harm than good. It would seem that about an hour after taking the Lorazepam (in the morning and at night), my panic would come back worse than before. It became so bad, that my parents and I came to the conclusion that I needed to get off of the meds and just start from scratch, or "start with a clean slate."
Easier said than done. We decided that I should get off of the Effexor first and since I was already on the lowest dose available, I more or less stopped taking it cold turkey. That wasn't a fun week. Keep in mind, I had been taking Effexor every day for just about two years. The withdrawal was bad, or what I had considered bad at the time. It was like being in the twilight zone. I felt anxious and restless and was crying all the time asking my parents to "Please, make it stop." While these were difficult days for me, and my family, I was still taking the Lorazepam which helped with some of the withdrawal symptoms. Next up, the Lorazepam. Again, I was already taking the lowest dose available for this pill, and had hoped this one wouldn't be so hard to get off of. Wrong again.
Since this one was an actual pill, and not a capsule like the anti-depressant, I got a pill cutter and tried cutting them in halves, even down to a quarter of the pill. I felt like some kind of drug dealer, cutting up my pills and hoping it would help ease the withdrawal. Finally, one evening, I was having horrible panic attacks and at first my parents decided to give me more of the Lorazepam. It seemed that the more they gave me, the worse the panic would get, until finally they decided I was done. They were not allowing me to take any more of those and that started the worst days of my life. I had thought that the withdrawal from the Effexor was bad, turned out it was a walk in the park compared to what would come next.
When I tell the story about what happened during this withdrawal, I usually sum it up with "I went to hell and back" and let's just say the "back" part didn't happen as quickly as I'd hoped. Coming off of this stuff left me in such a blind panic that I can hardly describe it. I was more or less having a panic attack 24/7. I couldn't be alone for a minute which meant my parents (especially my mom) was with me at all times. I didn't sleep for four days straight, and I am NOT exaggerating. I couldn't even (try to) sleep alone, and I always had either my dad, mom, or brother camping out with me in the living room. I could hardly eat or drink anything because I was so scared and I was constantly shaking like a leaf. It was the worse week of my life and it was no picnic for my family either. They were just trying to keep me alive. They contemplated more than once about whether or not to take me to the emergency room because they knew I was getting dehydrated, malnourished, not to mention just out of control, but they were left with the fear that taking me in would mean I would get a shot of the same stuff I was trying to get away from, and then we'd be back to square one. I would literally try to pound my head against a wall or abruptly scream just so I would feel something other than the fear. I threatened to hurt myself and repeatedly asked my parents if I was dying. I don't think anybody will ever know the full extent of how horrible these days were except for my family that was here with me. The fear was indescribable and what was really only a week, felt like months of my life, the scariest months of my life at that. My family and I are Christians and very strong in our faith and I firmly believe the only thing that got me through this horrible time (and still gets me through) are prayers and hope and the knowledge that God has something great waiting for me on the other side of this mountain.
This all happened in March of 2009 and as time has passed things have gotten much better. It started with trying to get through hour by hour, then day by day, and so on. Now I have gotten to a point where I haven't had a panic attack in months. I still have some general anxiety but nothing that I'm not able to cope with. I am not on any meds still, even though I have been prescribed new ones, I refuse to take them and ever go back to what I dealt with.
While time does heal, it doesn't heal everything. I have been stuck in the house so long trying to get where I'm just comfortable there that now I have a social anxiety. I'm agoraphobic and now faced with the daunting task of exposure therapy to get my life back. I've spent two birthdays (19 & 20, should be great ones), two Christmas', one Thanksgiving, and countless other celebrations, in this house because of my fear. I've also missed the birth of my older brother's first child and my younger brother's high school graduation because of it and nothing will ever take away the guilt I feel for missing those major events. The time spent here hasn't been all a lost cause I suppose. I have been able to continue school with online courses and have made the dean's list for the two semesters i've been enrolled. I'm ready to get back out into the world and reclaim the life that was swiped out from under me. That is why I started writing this blog. I wanted to have something to hold me accountable for the progress I make and hopefully some support from others who have been through the same ordeal.
If you have a comment, feel free to leave it, I would love to hear any suggestions or words of encouragement. I could really use them. Hope all is well with those who read this and that your journey is taking you where you want to be.
So, these meds. that I was now on (Effexor and Lorazepam) were daily doing more harm than good. It would seem that about an hour after taking the Lorazepam (in the morning and at night), my panic would come back worse than before. It became so bad, that my parents and I came to the conclusion that I needed to get off of the meds and just start from scratch, or "start with a clean slate."
Easier said than done. We decided that I should get off of the Effexor first and since I was already on the lowest dose available, I more or less stopped taking it cold turkey. That wasn't a fun week. Keep in mind, I had been taking Effexor every day for just about two years. The withdrawal was bad, or what I had considered bad at the time. It was like being in the twilight zone. I felt anxious and restless and was crying all the time asking my parents to "Please, make it stop." While these were difficult days for me, and my family, I was still taking the Lorazepam which helped with some of the withdrawal symptoms. Next up, the Lorazepam. Again, I was already taking the lowest dose available for this pill, and had hoped this one wouldn't be so hard to get off of. Wrong again.
Since this one was an actual pill, and not a capsule like the anti-depressant, I got a pill cutter and tried cutting them in halves, even down to a quarter of the pill. I felt like some kind of drug dealer, cutting up my pills and hoping it would help ease the withdrawal. Finally, one evening, I was having horrible panic attacks and at first my parents decided to give me more of the Lorazepam. It seemed that the more they gave me, the worse the panic would get, until finally they decided I was done. They were not allowing me to take any more of those and that started the worst days of my life. I had thought that the withdrawal from the Effexor was bad, turned out it was a walk in the park compared to what would come next.
When I tell the story about what happened during this withdrawal, I usually sum it up with "I went to hell and back" and let's just say the "back" part didn't happen as quickly as I'd hoped. Coming off of this stuff left me in such a blind panic that I can hardly describe it. I was more or less having a panic attack 24/7. I couldn't be alone for a minute which meant my parents (especially my mom) was with me at all times. I didn't sleep for four days straight, and I am NOT exaggerating. I couldn't even (try to) sleep alone, and I always had either my dad, mom, or brother camping out with me in the living room. I could hardly eat or drink anything because I was so scared and I was constantly shaking like a leaf. It was the worse week of my life and it was no picnic for my family either. They were just trying to keep me alive. They contemplated more than once about whether or not to take me to the emergency room because they knew I was getting dehydrated, malnourished, not to mention just out of control, but they were left with the fear that taking me in would mean I would get a shot of the same stuff I was trying to get away from, and then we'd be back to square one. I would literally try to pound my head against a wall or abruptly scream just so I would feel something other than the fear. I threatened to hurt myself and repeatedly asked my parents if I was dying. I don't think anybody will ever know the full extent of how horrible these days were except for my family that was here with me. The fear was indescribable and what was really only a week, felt like months of my life, the scariest months of my life at that. My family and I are Christians and very strong in our faith and I firmly believe the only thing that got me through this horrible time (and still gets me through) are prayers and hope and the knowledge that God has something great waiting for me on the other side of this mountain.
This all happened in March of 2009 and as time has passed things have gotten much better. It started with trying to get through hour by hour, then day by day, and so on. Now I have gotten to a point where I haven't had a panic attack in months. I still have some general anxiety but nothing that I'm not able to cope with. I am not on any meds still, even though I have been prescribed new ones, I refuse to take them and ever go back to what I dealt with.
While time does heal, it doesn't heal everything. I have been stuck in the house so long trying to get where I'm just comfortable there that now I have a social anxiety. I'm agoraphobic and now faced with the daunting task of exposure therapy to get my life back. I've spent two birthdays (19 & 20, should be great ones), two Christmas', one Thanksgiving, and countless other celebrations, in this house because of my fear. I've also missed the birth of my older brother's first child and my younger brother's high school graduation because of it and nothing will ever take away the guilt I feel for missing those major events. The time spent here hasn't been all a lost cause I suppose. I have been able to continue school with online courses and have made the dean's list for the two semesters i've been enrolled. I'm ready to get back out into the world and reclaim the life that was swiped out from under me. That is why I started writing this blog. I wanted to have something to hold me accountable for the progress I make and hopefully some support from others who have been through the same ordeal.
If you have a comment, feel free to leave it, I would love to hear any suggestions or words of encouragement. I could really use them. Hope all is well with those who read this and that your journey is taking you where you want to be.
Monday, May 31, 2010
What got me here....
Part 2. (If you haven't read the previous entry, you might want to start there)
So, after this frightening episode with the antibiotic, I firmly believed everything would be fine. I had no idea my life would take such a drastic turn in the months to come. After I got over the walking pneumonia, I returned to everything as normal; school, my two jobs, and my social life. Something had changed, though. I had changed. My thought process was changing and, being that I was a veteran on the anxiety front, for someone my age anyway, I knew what was happening, but wanted to pretend like it wasn't. I began feeling twinges of anxiety during day to day activities that I had, just weeks ago, found mundane and simple. It started out with things like being stuck behind the cash register ringing up someones purchase at my retail job, or being nervous about meeting with my teachers for school. It then escalated to being afraid of sitting at stop lights when driving because I felt "stuck." Things kept getting worse and worse, while I tried to ignore them. I didn't tell my parents or anybody about what I was feeling because deep down I felt that if I said it out loud and discussed it, then it made it all real. I seemed to be keeping up the facade for a while but then came the day my family and I would never forget.
I suppose I remember that day so well because I've relived it over and over in my mind so many times, trying to figure out what exactly broke the camel's back that day. It was December 8, 2008. I had about two weeks left in the semester for school, and was dealing with the usual holiday rush at both my retail job and hostessing job at the restaurant, but nothing I didn't think I could handle. That day, I got up and got ready as usual. I had to meet with my English teacher that day (whom I was the most comfortable with out of all my teachers) and had some work to get done at the school. I noticed that I was feeling a bit more anxious than usual while waiting to see my teacher, but I brushed it off, knowing that in those past couple of weeks that had been fairly normal. It was particularly cold and gloomy that day so, I tried to make myself believe that this extra anxiousness was a product of the uncomfortable and somber weather. Thinking it may help, I decided to stop into Starbucks before I had to be at work (retail) and get a hot chocolate (definitely didn't need coffee). I remember sitting there thinking how off the whole day had felt. Again, I shrugged it off and headed to the mall early (the store I work at is in there) and figured I'd just walk into a few stores to kill time. I went into a few shops and ended up in a christian bookstore. It was in there, that I began to have a full blown, couldn't see straight, in tears, panic attack. After speaking with my mom on the phone and pacing back and forth, I ended up skipping out of the mall, and called work and lied that I had a flat tire and couldn't come in tonight. I felt like I was in my junior yr. of high school all over again, only worse. If that wasn't bad enough, I could barely drive home. I was suddenly more terrified than ever at being stuck at those stop lights and was in such panic that I would literally contemplate whether or not just to pull out into traffic just to get me out of there. Finally, I got home, but the panic didn't end there. Luckily, I was wise enough to take a Lorazepam the second I walked in the door, because I was in a state of non-stop panic until that pill kicked in. And that was it, the day when fear became a permanent fixture in my life.
Back to the drawing board, aka: the doctor. Being that I was already on Effexor and had Lorazepam on hand, I wasn't exactly sure what he could do for me, but I guess my parents thought maybe the meds needed "tweaking." The doctor decided to up my dose of Effexor. Strike one. This caused rapid heartbeat that was debilitating. Went back to the doctor and he says "Let's try Pristiq, it's the new and improved version of Effexor. I think it will work great for you." HAHAHA! That was funny! This was worse than any of them. This is what is now affectionately known in my house has the "hell pill." I had never felt in a darker place than I did when I was on that stuff. While taking it, I asked my parents if I was dying, and openly talked about wanting to hurt myself. It was a scary one. Strike two. Oh, and my doctor decided I should be taking Lorazepam once in the morning and once at night so my body would get used to them and I would stop feeling so fatigued and numb from taking them. Wrong. I was more numb, sleeping more than ever, and still had panic. Plus, my doctor failed to mention that taking that much of that stuff when you weigh about 110 lbs can quickly cause an addiction type situation. What a wonderful situation I was now in. Strike three.
I think by the next post I'll make it up to present day. Sadly the worst is still to come....
So, after this frightening episode with the antibiotic, I firmly believed everything would be fine. I had no idea my life would take such a drastic turn in the months to come. After I got over the walking pneumonia, I returned to everything as normal; school, my two jobs, and my social life. Something had changed, though. I had changed. My thought process was changing and, being that I was a veteran on the anxiety front, for someone my age anyway, I knew what was happening, but wanted to pretend like it wasn't. I began feeling twinges of anxiety during day to day activities that I had, just weeks ago, found mundane and simple. It started out with things like being stuck behind the cash register ringing up someones purchase at my retail job, or being nervous about meeting with my teachers for school. It then escalated to being afraid of sitting at stop lights when driving because I felt "stuck." Things kept getting worse and worse, while I tried to ignore them. I didn't tell my parents or anybody about what I was feeling because deep down I felt that if I said it out loud and discussed it, then it made it all real. I seemed to be keeping up the facade for a while but then came the day my family and I would never forget.
I suppose I remember that day so well because I've relived it over and over in my mind so many times, trying to figure out what exactly broke the camel's back that day. It was December 8, 2008. I had about two weeks left in the semester for school, and was dealing with the usual holiday rush at both my retail job and hostessing job at the restaurant, but nothing I didn't think I could handle. That day, I got up and got ready as usual. I had to meet with my English teacher that day (whom I was the most comfortable with out of all my teachers) and had some work to get done at the school. I noticed that I was feeling a bit more anxious than usual while waiting to see my teacher, but I brushed it off, knowing that in those past couple of weeks that had been fairly normal. It was particularly cold and gloomy that day so, I tried to make myself believe that this extra anxiousness was a product of the uncomfortable and somber weather. Thinking it may help, I decided to stop into Starbucks before I had to be at work (retail) and get a hot chocolate (definitely didn't need coffee). I remember sitting there thinking how off the whole day had felt. Again, I shrugged it off and headed to the mall early (the store I work at is in there) and figured I'd just walk into a few stores to kill time. I went into a few shops and ended up in a christian bookstore. It was in there, that I began to have a full blown, couldn't see straight, in tears, panic attack. After speaking with my mom on the phone and pacing back and forth, I ended up skipping out of the mall, and called work and lied that I had a flat tire and couldn't come in tonight. I felt like I was in my junior yr. of high school all over again, only worse. If that wasn't bad enough, I could barely drive home. I was suddenly more terrified than ever at being stuck at those stop lights and was in such panic that I would literally contemplate whether or not just to pull out into traffic just to get me out of there. Finally, I got home, but the panic didn't end there. Luckily, I was wise enough to take a Lorazepam the second I walked in the door, because I was in a state of non-stop panic until that pill kicked in. And that was it, the day when fear became a permanent fixture in my life.
Back to the drawing board, aka: the doctor. Being that I was already on Effexor and had Lorazepam on hand, I wasn't exactly sure what he could do for me, but I guess my parents thought maybe the meds needed "tweaking." The doctor decided to up my dose of Effexor. Strike one. This caused rapid heartbeat that was debilitating. Went back to the doctor and he says "Let's try Pristiq, it's the new and improved version of Effexor. I think it will work great for you." HAHAHA! That was funny! This was worse than any of them. This is what is now affectionately known in my house has the "hell pill." I had never felt in a darker place than I did when I was on that stuff. While taking it, I asked my parents if I was dying, and openly talked about wanting to hurt myself. It was a scary one. Strike two. Oh, and my doctor decided I should be taking Lorazepam once in the morning and once at night so my body would get used to them and I would stop feeling so fatigued and numb from taking them. Wrong. I was more numb, sleeping more than ever, and still had panic. Plus, my doctor failed to mention that taking that much of that stuff when you weigh about 110 lbs can quickly cause an addiction type situation. What a wonderful situation I was now in. Strike three.
I think by the next post I'll make it up to present day. Sadly the worst is still to come....
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