I thought I'd never be a blogger.....that's what i get for saying never.
If ever there was a time that I feel like putting words down in black and white, it's now.
My name is Britt. I'm a 20 yr. old, community college student that lives with her parents. I'm by no means lazy; I have goals and dreams just like everyone else...I just have a disabling situation...it's one that I've had since I was 8 yrs old....and it's one that has come and gone like a summer storm. Sadly, it's raining on me again.
When I was about 8 yrs. old, I dealt with my first season of panic attacks. 8. I was just a kid. It was so foreign to me which made it that much more scary. I can honestly say that nothing in my life could have triggered this bout of fear. I had a great childhood. Parents that NEVER fought, were loving, and attentive. I had two brothers that gave me the usual grief, but was close to them both. Nothing traumatic. In fact, I was known for being an outgoing and bubbly child.
The one event, that I later realized was a trigger for this particular season with anxiety, was a random stomach bug that left me petrified of throwing up. And let me just say that I haven't actually been sick since that day (knock on wood) so the fear is virtually useless, but nevertheless, there. After months of praying, having to leave public school to be home-schooled, and scary sleepless nights, it left. Gone. Panic attacks no more. I went back to public school as if nothing ever happened, but realizing how lucky I was that I could fully have my normal life back. I went on to be as normal as the next kid. I played softball and volleyball, I joined a dance team in Jr. high and then high school. I ran in a beauty pageant when I was 14, and loved every minute of it. I had friends, I dated, and I was enjoying every minute of being young and free without a care in the world.
Second season. A trigger that snapped me right out of my dream world, not right away, but soon enough. While I was a bridesmaid in my older brother's wedding, and my younger brother was a groomsman, my younger brother passed out during the ceremony. In the blink of an eye, BAM...he was on the floor. Between the enormous "THUD" and the surge of adrenaline, it took everything I had from passing out myself from fear. After he got up and we realized it was just a case of locked knees, it became something that we all realized we would just laugh about later. No big deal. Right?.......right?
Wrong. While this one didn't cause considerable panic attacks, it caused me to now have a fear of being in quiet rooms with more than one person. This included classrooms, meetings, etc. It also gave me performance anxiety, which I was known for never having, but sure enough, I now couldn't dance on the dance team...and literally ran from giving speeches and presentations. (Being my junior yr in high school, this meant I was trying to ditch one class or the other at least one day each week). Eventually, it became too much to handle. So, I was finishing they year with home bound tutoring. As long as I wasn't in that "classroom" situation, I was fine. Completely livable. Except my parents knew how bad things had got last time and wanted me to be able to finish school actually AT school. So, we headed to the doctor who, of course, instantly prescribed me an anti-depressant and a sedative.
Yay...17 yrs. old and on my first anti-depressant. After a little trial and error, I found one that was tolerable (Effexor) and took the sedative (Lorazepam) only once in a blue moon. I went on to finish high school through homeschooling and still did everything else normally. Dating, being with friends, and working. Then came college. I had already planned to take my first two years at the local community college and opted to take all my classes through open learning, which meant I didn't have to worry about sitting in classroom (which was still a fear of mine). So there I was, 18 years old, going to school, and now working two jobs (one in retail and one in a restaurant). I felt on top of the world. I wasn't scared of anything and I was planning on taking the world by storm. I was loving my first steps of adulthood and was proud of my well-handled responsibilities. Then, in the nick of time, that train was derailed.
In November 2008, I came down with walking pneumonia. Not a big deal. Missed some work, some school, and just felt tired and lousy. My brother took me to the doctor, where I was prescribed some antibiotics. When I read the directions for the medicine it said it was preferred that I take them on an empty stomach. So, first thing in the morning I took one. It wasn't 10 minutes before I started feeling nauseated. I began freaking out, and especially panicking when I started to gag. My mother saw me freaking out and with no time to eat something, she gave me a peppermint and told me to suck on it. Luckily that worked fast and I didn't throw up from that wretched pill. At first, it seemed like no harm, no foul. But that one little experience had a more profound effect on me than any of us would have imagined.
Whew....seeing this in print is just exhausting as living it was. I'll pick up where I left off in my next post and hope that somebody will be waiting to read it. The craziest parts are to come....
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