Panic Attacks

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    The first time you go to the ER with suicidal thoughts

    Part 1 of 2 You are 19 years old, on your computer at home, and you have been depressed for weeks, maybe even months. It has gotten really bad lately, and you are talking to your best friend on Facebook messenger to pass the time. You have been really laying it all down about how depressed you have been and how all you want to do is sleep, you just wish you could stop existing, and you wish everything could just end.

    Suddenly, you hear a knock on the door of your apartment and it startles you. You have been isolating yourself for days, so this is a surprise. When you look out of the peep-hole, you are bewildered to see a male police officer standing outside the door. Shaken and not knowing what else to do, or even whether or not you have a choice, you answer the door.

    The police officer knows your name. How does he know your name? When he asks to come in, you are reluctant to let him through the door, but you know you don’t have a choice … do you? So you let him in.

    He asks to see your room. When he looks inside your room, he scans the interior, most likely getting a full view of the scattered articles of unwashed clothing, dirty dishes, week old pizza boxes, and of course, the multiple anti depressants on the bedside table.

    Of course, he immediately asks about the pills. “What are the pills for? Have you taken any of the pills today? How many of the pills have you taken today? How are you feeling right now? Do you want to hurt yourself or harm someone else right now?”

    He asks if he can take you for a ride in his police car, and you are reluctant to go, but again, you are not offered a choice and you are also not sure whether or not you have one. They place you in hand cuffs because “that’s the protocol” and then you are placed in the back of the police car in the cold, hard seat and no one speaks another word to you.  About ten minutes later, you are arriving at the hospital. At this point, all you know is that someone called a hotline, and the hotline notified the police that you are a danger to yourself. Nothing else is explained.

    You are taken into the hospital emergency area by the police, and left in a small, white room with one hard, non-cushioned chair to sit in and wait for a triage nurse. Someone immediately comes in to ask you to remove all of your clothes and hand over all of your belongings, including your phone. They give you what they refer to as “blues” which just looks like a plain blue hospital gown, and they exit. They even take your underwear and bra.

    It takes hours for the nurse to come back to check on you and you are so agitated and emotional at this point that you feel like you would have been better off suffering alone at home. When the nurse finally arrives, you try to ask him to explain what is going on through your tears and hyperventilating and all he says is that you are a danger to yourself and that he would be interviewing you to determine whether or not you will be admitted for a stay in the hospital. Of course, you immediately panic. You have never heard of being hospitalized for depression.

    All of this is extremely overwhelming. Why is it taking so long?

    The nurse begins to question you rapidly. “What did you tell your friend when you spoke to him earlier tonight on the internet? Do you wish to harm yourself right now? Do you want to harm other people? Are you hearing voices or seeing things that aren’t there? Do you know, in what specific way you would harm yourself? Have you had, or do you currently have, a plan set in place to harm yourself?”

    Eventually you let slip that one time while you were walking to work you had a fleeting thought while you were crossing a bridge, wondering what it may be like to jump off that bridge. The nurse pauses and writes down what you said. You immediately regret telling him. The nurse tells you he has everything he needs; the psychiatrist will be in to see you shortly.

    It is hours more until the psychiatrist comes. You have two panic attacks before you can see the psychiatrist because this is all brand new and overwhelming to you, and on top of that you can’t reach your family or friends. You are still locked in the cold, small white room with one hard chair.

    At one point, you panic and try to ask someone for help. You think they could help you to calm down. You try to go up to the window and ask for help, but they blatantly ignore you, and eventually they just shout “no.” The psychiatrist finally enters the room a couple of hours later, and asks if you have had anything to eat. She is much gentler than anyone you have interacted with thus far. You tell her no, so she gets you a dry

    turkey sandwich wrapped in plastic wrap, but that’s okay, you’ll take anything at this point.

    While you eat yo

    12 reactions

    I am trying to problem solve a dangerous situation without any support coming my way in the near future

    I’m exhausted.

    I cannot figure out a way to sleep in my car with the multitude of individual, environmental , and financial, medical, and social factors that intersect with my situation.

    It just isn’t going to be safe no matter what. It is not fit for human cohabitation. No matter what.

    Throw in my #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #CPTSD #PTSD #Agoraphobia #PanicAttacks #ADHD #ChronicMigraines #ChronicVestibularMigraine #Migraine

    It just isn’t going to be okay.

    17 reactions 6 comments

    In a Blur

    I finally had a couple days where I felt like I had some energy. But then a few days ago, exactly a year after I hurt my neck which started a terrible cascade of worsening symptoms, when I started to feel some relief of all the rehab and physical therapy, when I finally started to feel a bit like myself, I hurt my shoulder and neck again when accidentally I slipped while stretching. It feels potentially worse than a year ago. Its weak and painful and it even hurts to type and work on the computer, which is kind of necessary for my new idea of doing online tutoring, which is one of the things that was giving me some energy this past week. Im terrified of reliving this nightmare that wasn’t even close to being over before this most recent injury; its like I just restarted it. Doesn’t help that last night I had more nightmares involving my ex.

    In a Blur

    I’m in a blur.

    As I stir, minds jumbled, a ringing whirs.

    The pain in my neck and my shoulder it hurts.

    I pray for a cure, for some hope to spur, to again feel pure.

    But dark thoughts, they lure.

    I fight the current, grit my teeth, growl 'gerr'.

    Even in day the dreams of my allure for her reoccur.

    Stuck in my head like a burr.

    Please Sir, turn things back as they were, take away this hurt, you have the power.

    #LymeDisease #ChronicLymeDisease #Babesiosis #Bartonella #Anxiety #Depression #PanicAttacks #Loneliness #MightyPoets #ChronicIllness #Poetry #MentalIllness #Insomnia

    6 reactions 1 comment

    I am not safe and the one thing I wish I could have is a way to prove it isn’t my fault and I’m worth helping

    I’m ineligible for many services or opportunities because I don’t have severe depression, I don’t have children, and i don’t have a substance abuse disorder

    I am a survivor of dv and the agency I’ve worked with for years has restricted my services when I started pushing back on the stuff they did wrong.

    It feels like stonewalling.

    This is the second agency with a long history with me who is now treating me like I do not matter.

    I wish I could pull out a list of reasons I know why my life is worth saving. I could tell them if someone asked.

    The dv agency said “we work with survivors not for survivors.” Bolder in the email than the rest of the text. Or that is how it is in my memory. I’m too scared to look.

    It implies I haven’t been showing up or doing my part when they have repeatedly have acknowledged I am. It feels like the script has flipped and i don’t know what rules I’m supposed to be following anymore.

    I wish I had a list of all of the things I have tried with so much effort. I am well resourced. I was a leader in a field that problem solved for children with disabilities. I apply a lot of it to making my life more manageable. I have worked so so so hard.

    On top of it- they didn’t call me for our scheduled appointment because something came up. She told me to call her back. I didn’t. I was told not to call her. I probably could call her if she told me. But I literally never know anymore.

    They know I don’t have food, toiletries, money, etc.

    Yet they set firmer lines when things got harder for me.

    I have been so patient. Unbelievably patient. Despite not having enough to live on, enough to eat.

    They didn’t even call me on the phone to hear why I have been upset. They read my emails and that was it. I didn’t expect to get cut off.

    I’m scared these dumps are getting annoying but I really hope they help me work out what of the fires I am most likely to be able to put out first. What is the most urgent. Etc. thank you so much for any words of support. 💗

    #Anxiety #ChronicIllness #ChronicMigraines #ChronicVestibularMigraine #Agoraphobia #PanicAttacks #ADHD #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #CPTSD #DomesticAbuseSurvivors #PTSD #Trauma

    22 reactions 12 comments

    One more month before I’m street homeless and I’m having flashbacks to the last time I was displaced to a stranger’s house

    TW: abuse and death

    It was around the same time I will be displaced from my former bff’s home.

    It was another friend who is a school psychologist. I don’t think my friends truly ever cared.

    The place I was before this, it was an ex boyfriend’s friend’s. That was the safest I had then. Now I have my car.

    At that house, the woman repeatedly would recount the trauma of her brother’s death to me. The way he looked, how it happened, every thought she had about it then and now.

    I already experienced complex trauma where I had no one but my therapist. I was now holding space for this woman’s trauma while trying to be in her home and adjust to new rules.

    My ex boyfriend became my current boyfriend because he lived there too. I was so scared.

    There husband was so judgy. He wouldn’t look at me. He talked down to me. He didn’t respect anything I said. He minimized me. Yet i was basically giving them support and education for helping their disabled child.

    His wife wanted pizza for her birthday. That’s all she wanted for her birthday. Pizza Hut. It broke my heart when he didn’t get it for her. She was so happy when my boyfriend came back with pizza for her.

    I started being able to see what my life was actually going to look like with this guy. He couldn’t afford taking care of himself, I am legally disabled and don’t have enough money to survive on. We misrepresented his financial situation and that is dangerous for someone like me. He expected me to do everything for him- cook, clean, support, etc.

    He would control me with his emotions. He would not let me turn the light on in the room we stayed the entire day because he “didn’t get enough sleep.” I consistently got/get 4 hours. He’d get like 7. And then would send the absolutely worst pictures of himself to his friends with his eyes half open and his mouth drooping saying “I’m so tired I look like this.”

    There would be entire weekends where I could not eat because the second I would pick up something, he would say something intentionally triggering and he would watch me immediately put it down.

    I dreaded weekends because he would control me the entire time. I couldn’t escape. No one cared enough to even let me talk.

    I was terrified.

    The woman was also disabled. She separated my future from hers. People believe they are protected from my current state. There are so many fewer protections than people understand.

    He started getting road rage. I would sit quietly but he would get so mad where he would drive dangerously. Slowing down and speeding up. If you have been through abuse, you probably know the fear tactic.

    When we broke up I knew I would be kicked out despite the woman promising I wouldn’t until I could find a safe place. This, of course, was a promise she wouldn’t keep.

    That was the first time I tried to file the grievance against the agency that lost my housing voucher because they just didn’t do anything with my case nearly the entire time.

    No I cannot get my housing voucher back. I was lucky to be able to acquire it over a year ago. They haven’t been available again since then.

    When I left she made me feel disgusting by telling me to delete any pictures of her son from my phone (which I pretty much already had deleted all of them because I only took ones she asked me to send or to send to her).

    I cannot remember everything that happened in that house. Sometimes, when I try to describe what I experienced, it just doesn’t even feel like it sounds “that bad.”

    There isn’t safety in my immediate future.

    #DomesticAbuseSurvivors #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #CPTSD #PTSD #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder #Anxiety #Agoraphobia #PanicAttacks #ChronicIllness #ChronicMigraines #ChronicVestibularMigraine #ADHD #Trauma

    8 reactions 2 comments

    I’m actually panicking really hard about food insecurity

    Please don’t give advice. I need to be heard.

    I have serious #Agoraphobia and #PanicAttacks

    I have not been physically, psychologically, emotionally safe in years

    I completely shut down attempting to go anywhere because I am managing so much on my own (although people are listening more)

    I have no place to store food nor do I have regular access to a place to cook food because the place I’m in is hostile to say the least

    I am impending street homeless

    I do not have enough money to buy food

    My diet is incredibly restrictive when I am this hyper vigilant

    I am not from this area and I have no control over when I can/cannot leave because I’m constantly navigating triggers and other people’s comings and goings.

    I cannot stock up.

    I also am running very low on the basics like toiletries

    When I have attempted to get items- it has caused me significant distress to see that my life is only worth things that are expired

    I cannot force myself to eat these things no matter what I do.

    The agency where I used to access *some* things is over 30 minutes away. I don’t have enough gas to drive there when I need things to only get a couple of boxes of noodles, shampoo, conditioner, and soap.

    Not only that- they are severely restricting my ability to access supports so I no longer even feel safe going there until someone has a conversation with me about their new expectations on me.

    They are not considering all of this when they send me long emails I cannot read because I am so sick and nutrient deprived and resource deprived. They don’t consider that I am now without any certainty about how I will access any resources.

    After this week, my case manager will be out for a week or two and I didn’t think to ask her to help me get food items. She is new to me and hasn’t been through the whole food ordeal, although she knows I struggle. It’s Memorial Day weekend so I don’t have any idea when I’ll be able to secure items I need. I am too scared to go to that agency right now.

    The place I am staying is a very middle class household, with my former bff, her husband and their kids. Their daughter asks me for any food she sees me eating. The family orders pizza and Mexican and uses hello fresh and have celebrations. I’m eating tortillas and avocados on repeat.

    I don’t want pity. I just want support. I cannot explain all of the factors that make this feel unsurvivable. It’s hard to constantly explain why what people see on the news isn’t the reality of what this stuff looks like.

    I have never in my life been so scared.

    #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #CPTSD #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder #Anxiety #Agoraphobia #PanicAttacks #PTSD #Trauma #CheckInWithMe #ADHD #WritingThroughIt #ChronicIllness #Disability #ChronicMigraines #ChronicVestibularMigraine

    43 reactions 25 comments

    What it means to be disabled and homeless

    Because I am homeless and disabled, I cannot access appropriate treatment to get well.
    I never know which pharmacy I will need to go to get my meds, which usually have to be ordered because they aren’t strengths they keep on hand. So my meds have been interrupted countless times
    I have chronic pain, #ChronicMigraines #ChronicVestibularMigraine #Migraine and get sick. I need ice packs to keep my pain at a bearable level. I cannot always access a freezer for my ice packs.
    I have to explain everything
    My life is constantly scrutinized
    I have to explain “why” all the time. For everything I do.
    Everything I do is seen with a disabled and/or homeless filter- even if I did the same things before all of this.
    I am constantly proving I am safe to people because being homeless with mental health problems #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #CPTSD #PTSD comes with so many layers of stigma. I’m one of the least aggressive, most patient, extremely transparent people. But I’m just seen as disabled and homeless.

    People assume I get much more help than I get. I cannot survive on what I get. Which is why I’m homeless.

    My life is seen as disposable by society at large even though I have so many important skills that are in such short supply.

    I work so hard just to be relatively okay, yet there is no result.

    I cannot access a typical food pantry/bank because I have #Agoraphobia #PanicAttacks and become incredibly overwhelmed and overstimulated to the point where I completely shut down. As in- I am on the floor dissociating in public. This isn’t safe. This also makes it basically impossible to get anything done. Or make decisions.
    Not only that- I need more than they can give me. I need toiletries. It takes so much time to find a “good” place where I can access a portion of things I need. Otherwise I get expired food and expired toothpaste.

    I need a consistent place to access my services and my needs but I cannot have that because I don’t have any stability with my shelter
    I struggle to drive anywhere new because of my dissociation. I get lost and already had a bad sense of direction.
    I am staying with people who do not respect my medical conditions and I’m constantly on edge. I’ve been kicked out a few times and need to be out soon. I have no privacy when I’m throwing up from my migraines or crying from a flashback or trigger. I never know who will be here
    I have stayed in a place where one of my friends invited my KNOWN abuser over. My life is on display for all of the people who ever doubted me or spread rumors about me to say “look at her, I was right.”
    I’m physically weak yet have to carry so much stuff all the time. Up and down the stairs, out to my car, to a different place.
    I am so stressed I cannot think to make any decisions about my next move.
    I am constantly being denied services due to my protective factors and being seen as “not needy enough”

    New health conditions keep popping up but I can’t do anything about them because I don’t know where I will be and I am just trying to get safe

    I have been just trying to get safe for years

    My entire life is about trying to get safe.

    I cannot easily engage with people because my brain is constantly either experiencing trauma or re-experiencing previous trauma. I dissociate in conversation. Sometimes mid sentence.

    Almost everyone acts like I should be able to separate myself from this, compartmentalize. But I can’t. My whole world has been inundated and it feels like I’m sinking


    20 reactions 14 comments

    Friendship obligation?

    I'm going to try and condense this as much as possible but I really need to vent. I have an online friend who also has mental health problems. She gets on medication and comes off them and it seems like it's become a pattern. She goes back and forth on wanting to do therapy. Anyway it was Thursday night and she had messaged me about how she had a panic attack at her husband's familys house. It turned into her snapping at me and I wasn't really sure why. She's done this one other time in the past when she was going through a really rough patch, had just quit her meds again and I had said it could be withdrawal. She felt I was invalidating. Anyway after her snapping at me on Thursday night she then text me a little later talking suicide. I replied and told her she was loved and needed. Then she just left me on read. I didn't sleep well that night because I was really worried about her. I sent her a message on her Facebook saying we didn't need to talk but could she let me know she was ok. Left me on read until late morning, and only after a mutual friend was able to get a hold of her over Facebook that she sent a message saying just saying"I'm ok"

    I will a little angry at this point. Then on Friday she sent me another message just saying hi. I replied and asked her how she was feeling. She said she was feeling a certain way but was ok. I left it after that because I felt overwhelmed. She had been posting on Facebook about how bad she felt. After talking it over with my husband I decided to message her to tell her that leaving me to worry like that wasn't ok. She then sent a barrage of texts saying no one cares about her and that she was suffering so much. I have always shown I've cared about her. We talk almost everyday. I've sent her Christmas gifts and cards etc. She said she needed the type of friend who could "pull her out of the gutter"

    After that I waited and then spoke to her last night and made conversation about other things. Which she seemed happy to do. Am I being unreasonable or is that a lot of pressure to put on someone? I'm sad and stressed about it all. #Suicide #Depression #Friendship #overwelmed

    21 reactions 5 comments