Anxiety and Panic…but no Disco
catching up not ketching up
Hi friends! How’s it going? How’s life? What’s new? What’s good? Let’s catch up, not to be confused with ketchup! (look at me, telling more bad jokes) Hey, tell me something. Is this year kind of weird? Like it’s going by fast, which was almost refreshing at first, but but now it’s a little disconcerting? Let me ask another question… Is your anxiety through the roof too? Yes? No? Just me? Cool cool cool. Lately it feels like I have the resting heart rate of a hummingbird on a Red Bull I.V. drip. Anxiety. Amirite?
Since I do live in a near constant state of anxiety, it’s usually fine; I manage. I am a functional emotional hot mess, if you will. Well, semi-functional if you ask most people who know me. To be honest, it’s hit or miss on the actual ability to function on any level. AAAAANYYYYWAY – you know what? That is not the point here. I’m not sure what it is exactly, but let’s not dwell on the fact that simple dumb luck and a team of overworked, exhausted guardian angels are the only reason I’ve made it this long. WELCOME TO GENERAL ANXIETY, FOLKS! It’s fine. This is fine. This year has been super sized fine is all. Super. Sized. Fine. Anxious is my resting emotion. Resting b*tch face/resting anxiety attack. Again, it’s fine.
in my head
Like when I’m driving and am suddenly preoccupied with the the overpass and concentrating super hard on not driving over the edge of the overpass. Never mind that the overpass is like 700 feet wide and I am in no actual danger of accidentally veering too close to the edge of said overpass. I would like to stop thinking about overpasses now. K thanks.
besties & twins (not cousins)
But sometimes…. SOMETIMES, the anxiety in me is like “hmm… nah, fam. This bitch is still livin, laughin and lovin. I don’t like it. Not at all. Time for reinforcements.” That’s when panic is like “I’M ON IT!” and then that sneaky little son of a motherless goat panic attack creeps in to ruin my life. THEY JOIN FORCES AND TAG TEAM MY BRAIN! It’s a conspiracy, I tell you. There is a lot of talk about how Depression and Anxiety are besties in your head, but people rarely talk about Panic. That’s because most people don’t know the two are different. Depression and Anxiety might be besties, but Anxiety and Panic are basically twins. Twins, not cousins. Just like twins, it’s hard to tell them apart, however there are differences. What are they? I. AM. SO glad you asked! So I never actually noticed or knew there was a difference. But there is. A panic attack is NOT, as I initially thought, supersized anxiety.
twin a. imma call him kyle
I decided to call these guys Kyle and Chad because any Kyle or Chad I have ever met made my life hell.
For me (I want to make it clear that these are my personal experiences. Different people, different experiences and all that.), my anxiety is just random, unchill thoughts intruding my chill attitude. And then sometimes it’s a hyper-focus on those random, unchill thoughts. I am remarkably unchill for someone so laidback. Other times it’s just a feeling of impending doom clouding up a perfectly sunny moment. Like instead of just enjoying the good, I am waiting for the bad to creep in… because I just know it’s definitely going to get cloudy soon. I am remarkably pessimistic for an optimist.
So, to sum up, anxiety is:
- Random, irrational thoughts and scenarios
- Inability to focus
- Hyper focus on irrational thoughts and scenarios
An sidenote summary:
- I am an unchilled laidback homie
- Pessimistically optimistic is my vibe
twin b…or chad
My first panic attack happened in the middle of a meeting at work and a friend ended up driving me to the ER. I don’t remember too much else aside from suddenly only being able to hear my heart pounding in my ears and vibrating throughout my entire body. It was so loud that I truly could not hear anyone around me talking. Blood whooshing and big heartbeats overpowered everything. Fun. My friend stayed with me the whole time I was there. I know she kept me company and tried distracting me with funny stories, but I don’t remember much. Not a single word of what we talked about. Nothing. You know how they sometimes say the best times are the ones you don’t remember? I can confirm that not only is this a lie, but it’s a dumb ass lie at that.
I’d just like to say that while feeling the bass throughout your body at a concert or party or to your favorite song is amazing, feeling the bass throughout your body because your heart is threatening to blow out your chest… is not.
Since I had been spared the thrill of this particular mental carnival ride until this very moment, I was fairly certain the only thing to come next was death. EXACTLY LIKE RIDES AT THE CARNIVALS: they’re wobbly and bobbly and rickety and held together with duct tape and well-wishes and ready to collapse at any moment – JUST. LIKE. MY. BRAIN. Not an expert, but I am pretty sure that being able to hear all the blood in your body whooshing around and ONLY being able to hear all the blood whooshing around in your body – along with your whole body vibrating from the bass of your heartbeat – is not normal. I don’t want to hear my blood whooshing and I don’t want my brain vibrating from heartbeat bass. It’s weird and uncomfortable and I DON’T. LIKE. IT. (Please note that this is my experience. Not all people experience the same thing and all people don’t experience the same thing every time.)
Spoiler alert: I did not die. I made it off the mental carnival ride in one piece. such as this piece is. But that was an exciting ride. So, now that I know what that what that’s like, I know what to expect. If I feel another full body heartbeat bass attack coming on, I know it’s Chad trying to come in. But sometimes, I’ll be casually hanging with Kyle (per usual) and I feel Chad stomping in ready to party, I do try to tell myself it is NOT a heart attack. And then I work myself up into a new argument with Kyle because what if I AM IGNORING ALL THE SIGNS OF A HEART ATTACK ?
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that peek at my mental carnival ride of a brain. yaaay.
Besties, being me is exhausting.