“What if all that keeps you trapped in that invisible boxing ring is the belief that you have to keep fighting in order to win?… What will happen to your opponent if he suddenly has nobody who will fight him?” Courtney Perry

Once upon a time

I started having panic attacks

I hated them so vehemently

That I swore to fight them at all costs

I swore to do whatever I had to to to win this battle

So I trained

And so I won many battles

But eventually I grew tired

I grew tired of always fighting

Being on guard 24/7 was crippling

And life was becoming one giant battlefield

One day

The panic attacks came back

They had grown stronger than before

I shrank my world to fit in my condo

Hoping if I stayed off the battlefield

The panic attacks would see I was no longer in the fight

They’d turn around and walk away

And leave me alone

Instead, they found me there

In my safe place

Banging on my doors and windows

Rattling me to my very core

I was so afraid

I hid in the darkness and shrank into the corner

Days passed this way

I could hear them getting louder and louder

And just when my door sounded like it was going to break apart

And my mind was going to snap into a million pieces

I sprang to my feet

I frantically threw open the front door

And yelled for them to fucking do their worst

I screamed that I wasn’t afraid of them

I didn’t like them

They knew that

I never would

But I had grown so tired of living in a constant state of fear

That I realized I’d rather come face to face with them

And if they destroyed me

Well

Then at least it would be over

The funny thing was

That when I opened the door

No one was there

The hall was eerily silent

I was stunned

I looked around

Sure that they were just hiding

To catch me at my most vulnerable

I looked in corners and under crawl spaces

Still I was alone

I was bewildered and shaken

I sank to my knees in the quiet hallway

And I started to cry

Big fat tears rolled down my face

I wasn’t crying because I was afraid

Not this time

This time was different

I was crying because all of this time

All of these years

I had expended so much energy and strength

I had used up so much of myself

When all I had ever needed to do

Was to open that fucking door

—–

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‘There is always some madness in love. But there is also always reason in madness.’ Nietzsche

I used to lament

How we would have had an epic love story

If it weren’t for my fucked up life getting in the way

It’s kinda messed up

How everyone loves the deeply flawed broken man in a romance novel

But nobody writes a story where the woman in the relationship is the one who is beautifully broken

Our story is nothing like a romance novel

I know I don’t need you to survive

This isn’t a story about a damsel in distress

Maybe I would even find a way to be happy without you in my life 🤷🏻‍♀️

The thing is

I don’t want to have to try

I want you in my life

In my darkest hours

In my darkest moments

I see you at the other end

Looking for me

Waiting for me

You read me affirmations when I’m too anxious to read them myself

You encourage me when my depression steals my ability to do that for myself

This isn’t a fairytale

It’s real and gritty and honest

And sometimes I’d rather be alone

I know it’s not easy

Sometimes, when I’m not consumed by own mind

I see how hard it is for you

That makes me far sadder than I could ever put into words

I still think how different your life could have turned out

If we hadn’t of met

I probably always will

I used to think that our love story was ruined

That it didn’t have a chance to flourish

Because of me

That my own story is filled with too many plot twists

To have a happy ending

But I was wrong

You are the plot twist

You’re the one I didn’t see coming

In a million years

I never would have guessed

That we’d be here

Together

After everything

All the hard times

All the sad times

Ive said before that I wouldn’t try to write something

That someone else had already written

And written so eloquently

This

Exactly

All of this:

And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”-Kiersten White

‘Pain Is Inevitable, Suffering Is Optional.’ Haruki Murakami

I need to stop resisting my panic attacks

I know this

From years of therapy and educating myself on panic disorder

I am fully aware that I am not in danger

I am aware that my feelings although unpleasant

Are temporary

And will pass

Yet

My natural instinct is to fight against the discomfort I feel when I experience a panic attack

Thus I remain stuck in the cycle of panic

I read something this morning that resonated with meArticle

The key take away from this article

Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional’

What does that mean?

It means that there is nothing we can do in life

To avoid pain, both physical and mental

What we can do, however, is decide what we are going to do with that pain

Do we accept the pain for what it is (unpleasant feelings)

Or do we fight against it?

Making the situation worse?

Drawing it out?

Allowing it to permeate every part of our lives?

The answer is clear

The real question is how do we accept what feels unnatural and foreign?

We have to go against our instincts

Instead of fleeing

Instead of fighting

Give yourself over to the feeling

Maybe even taunt it

Invite it into your life

This can be done through self talk

Or exposing yourself to anxiety inducing situations

I think both are helpful

I noticed during this last month

How negative my self talk is

When I need it to be the exact opposite

I’ll find myself thinking or saying aloud

‘ I can’t do this’

‘It’s too hard’

‘I’m weak’

How self defeating is that?

So I’m changing the narrative

‘I am able to do this’

‘Just because it feels unpleasant doesn’t mean I am in danger’

‘I accept what is happening right now’

The other part is inviting the uninvited visitor into your life

Come on in

Do your worst

It’s been a hard week, and maybe if a panic attack is hanging around

Let it out

Allow yourself to feel whatever it is

Without punishment

No criticism

Find a place that is comfortable

And let it roll through you like an ocean wave

You know that it will be uncomfortable but it will pass

Makes perfect sense, right?

Now

I just need to practice what I’ve gotten so good at preaching

I will not be a cautionary anecdote that psychotherapists use for future patients

There once was a woman named Angela

Who allowed panic disorder to rule her life

And became isolated and held hostage

Even though she had all the tools she needed

To live

Reflections of a 37 year old

Today wasn’t easy

I wish it had been

Being my birthday and all

But it seems fitting somehow

I went out twice

To celebrate my day

And both times

The festivities were halted

Panic attacks wanted to join the party

I was surprised both times

Although I’m not sure why

I mean

Panic attacks and I are the oldest of friends

Very well acquainted

They’ve been around for nearly every single one of the significant events in my life

From marriage to new beginnings to deaths and endings

Panic attacks are a lot like the uninvited guest

They’ve come along on so many vacations

But the visitor always finds a way to show up

You know, I’d make a deal with the devil

Even if there was only a minuscule chance he would keep his word

I’d shake hands

Sign on the dotted line

Whatever it takes

To get rid of the uninvited guest permanently

This week hasn’t been the easiest

With the change of meds

I felt unlike myself

Which is the weirdest of feelings

It’s like being in the wrong skin

And knowing it

But not knowing how to get out

Somehow

I think I can see a way out

Late last night, I tweaked my meds

Everything felt like it was going too fast

And I need slower pace

After all

I did just turn 37 years old

‘You can’t help getting older, but you don’t have to get old.’ George Burns

The first of October means it’s my birthday.

It means I’m 37 years old.

It means I’m a year older.

It means I’ve survived another year.

There is a reason I fight so hard and it is because I love life and want to enjoy it to the fullest.

I didn’t do the Lemtrada and the Paxil change for no reason.

I did it because I want more.

I want to die, wrinkled, tattooed, scarred and with no weeping at my funeral telling one another that ‘it’s a pity, she had such a hard/sad life.’

Nah, I want people to remember the life force that I was, the zeal I shared and the hunger I had for more.

I know it’s not always on display.

Sometimes other things take over but it’s always in there.

Sometimes it’s just hiding.

I’m like the comeback kid, I’ll always bounce back. I will this time too.

Here’s to 37 and making it count!

Thanks for all ❤️

‘The Mind Is A Terrible Thing To Taste.’ Ministry

So I’m laying in bed thinking about my panic attacks

Crying

Hot frustrated tears

Because even still

I just can’t wrap my head around the why

If I know that my fears are unfounded

That I won’t spontaneously ‘go crazy’

And that I’m safe

That my panic attack won’t last forever

If I have evidence to prove that as well

Then why in the actual fuck am I still having these ridiculously soul wrenching panic attacks?

The kind that exhaust me

Leaving me crumpled in bed

Sleeping in an Ativan induced stupor

It seems that I have all the knowledge and the tools

Necessary to overcome all of this

And yet

Here I am

Terrified still

Of not just being in a state of panic

But of simply having another panic attack

Ugh

I want to beat my head in exasperation

So many years later

Having survived innumerable panic attacks

Fearless in the face of meeting the boogeyman

Unafraid of being awakened by things that go bump in the night

Completely confused

Why I’m still tormented by the threat of another panic attack

And yet somehow it seems perfectly fitting

That the only thing that could truly terrify me

Is my own fucked up mind

‘…In A World Of Ordinary Mortals, You Are A Wonder Woman.’ Queen Hippolyta (Wonder Woman’s Mom)

Struggling to get through today

Hour by hour

Minute by minute

Each second more excruciating than the last

Skin crawling

Head pounding

Eyes straining

This is the part in the movie where the poor guy reaches for his drug of choice

Where the sad woman guzzles her beloved bottle

It’s the climax in a novel

Where emotions soar to dizzying heights

Where nothing can possibly survive at such intensity

Like a car reaching peak speed

Like an addict reaching the height of their high

The moment is suspended in time

When the audience knows a turning point is coming

Watching for the pivotal scene in which the hero sheds his old skin

Where the heroine finally emerges

That’s what happens in movies and books

In real time nothing is ever quite so profound

The moment goes on and on

Stretching uncomfortably long

The hero remains sheathed in weary skin

The heroine hides in her shadows

There’s no audience waiting with bated breath

Rooting for the breakthrough moment

Instead

There’s only a woman looking at herself through a mirror

Waiting

Watching

Begging for a glimpse of the heroine to change the narrative of this story

From another unhappy ending

To one in which she finally gains her superpowers