Happy Panicversary

Yesterday marked a year since my very first panic attack.

Happy Panicversary to me!!!!

(Yes, that is totes a thing.)

Of course, my initial thoughts on this subject are a little (read: VERY) negative, sad, regretful etc.

If you've read this blog for awhile then you know the basic story about that day. But what I never took the time to write about were the miracles associated with it.

So here are a few miracles that surrounded the beginning of the hardest trial of my life:

SJ and the Invisible Force

As you know, SJ (Sister Johnson, my greenie) and I were at the YW's broadcast when I first started to panic. The building this was being held at was in Woodbridge CT, a good 30 minute drive from our home of Clinton. I was the designated driver so SJ had never driven back East. However, after I started to lose it there was no way I was going to be able to get us home safely. SJ was terrified. We said a prayer before we left the building and I curled up on the front seat, with the window down trying to clear my head.

SJ is a great driver, but it had been awhile and this was all new to her. She'd also never used a GPS before. We did okay until we were on the freeway and kept getting off at the wrong place and having to get back on. Mind you, we're both freezing (this is CT, in March, with the windows down) I feel like I'm going to die, and SJ is under the pressure of getting her companion to safety before she completely loses it. 

As SJ came to a point where there needed to be a lane change, she was unaware of that fact. But our car moved over, right where we needed it to be. Heavenly Father knew SJ was doing her best, and He decided to step in to get us home safe.

The Phone Call

The next day was one of the worst of my entire life. I woke up feeling like I'd been hit by a truck and run over by a herd of elephants. I could barely move, so SJ and I had to miss Easter Sunday. It was HORRID. I slept most of the day, then later we went on a walk, knowing I was in no condition to do much else. As we were walking, I was overcome by this desire for someone, ANYONE to call us. I just really wanted our phone to ring. So so badly. I still don't really know why, I probably just wanted proof that someone was aware of how horrid we were feeling. After we got home I cried about this to SJ and she said a prayer that someone would call us.

Less than 3 minutes after we'd said amen, our phone rang. It was our sweet ward mission later and his wife, wanting to pay us a visit. They came over, brought us Easter candy and flowers and just visited for a few minutes. And, oh what a small world, our mission leader had had multiple panic attacks in his life. After that night, I knew, more than I ever had in my life that God is aware of me and that He loves me unconditionally.

The Moral

There's a common theme in both these stories. A mutual factor that, in my opinion, is the real miracle: my dear SJ. That is another testimony that the Lord is truly in control of His work. He knew I would need SJ that night and during the days that followed. He put us together, despite the fact that we were both so new.

It's hard to describe how healing this has been for me; to look at the good things surrounding a time that still haunts me. If we look hard enough we can always find something to be grateful for. That's not a trite, Mormon concept, it really does help us to heal and be made whole.

So when your next horrible "versary" comes up, my suggestion to you is to revisit those memories from a different perspective. Be a detective looking for the clues that point to growth, peace and happiness. That way you can smile through your tears and be reminded that every difficult road you've walked has led you to where you're at today. And if you're not crazy about the road you're currently on?

A. Join the club.

B. Make a plan to change the things you can. (Baby steps)

C. Find the good stuff.

D. Keep on walking, in your way and in your own time.

And most importantly:

Remember that you're loved, and that there is ALWAYS hope.

Animal Tendancies

Tonight at group therapy we read a story that really hit home with me.

A man was looking at an elephant and noticed that there was a rope tied to its front leg. It was obvious that the elephant had the strength to break free of the rope. So the man asked the trainer about it. The trainer explained that when the elephants are babies they're tied with the same rope in the same way and can't break free. So the elephant grows up and is conditioned to think that it doesn't have the capability to break the rope.

The same is true of us. We all grow up with some kind of belief about ourselves, unwittingly allowing it to hold us back while, ALL ALONG, we have the strength and ability to break free!

This month in group we're learning about our core beliefs and learning how they affect the way we operate. Let me tell you...

IT IS DOWNRIGHT 

TERRIFYING AND PAINFUL.

But the sooner I choose to break free of these beliefs, the happier I'll be. I'll be able to avoid the hamster wheel that these beliefs keep me on.

And let's be real, I'm not a hamster or an elephant. 

I'm a human.

Smells Like Success

This is how I feel after today.

Nothing I did felt good enough.

I couldn't win, no matter how I tried.

And that's exhausting.

 

Tonight at therapy I couldn't sit still.

I could barely hear what everyone was saying.

During the break I just curled up on the floor and shook.

Didn't get much out of tonight.

 

Good news though:

I DON'T SUCK.

Really. I don't.

Even after a day like today, I can openly admit that I'm still moderately awesome.

 

Smells like success to me.

Mental Illness Illustrated

When you find out someone you don't usually associate with is going through something similar to you:

 

 

 

When someone who has no idea what they're talking about tries to explain it away:

 

 

 

  When you get into the mindset that no one will be able to love the "crazy person" that you've become:

 

 

 

When you have a great session of therapy or go a day without a panic attack:
 

 

 

When you wake up in a funk:
 

 

 

When you wake up and realize you have to function for at least 14 hours before you can lay down again:
 

 

 

When someone tells you about a new treatment that sounds like it could work for you:
 

 

 

When your therapist can't remember something you've told them at least 25 times:
 

 

 

When at the end of the day, you have nothing left, so you go to the one person who knows exactly what you're feeling, how you're dealing with it, and still loves you.

Take Those Pills and Shove It

Last night I was trying to sleep.

Trying being the operative word.

I tossed, I turned, and I started to ache.

My chest does this really cute thing where it starts to swell with pain to the point of explosion.

It's like...totes torture.

#totestort

 

So Ralph is like:

"Oh heeeey girl! I know how to make this ish stop!"

"Super! Spill."

"See that pill bottle over there?"

"Well...it's dark so...no."

"Well it's there. Chug those pills."

"That's a bad idea."

"Not really."

"That could really really hurt me."

"So???"

"So I care about myself and the people who love me too much to do something like that."

"It'll make it go away homie..."

 

It's at this point that I realize it's time to talk to someone whose life-goal isn't to make me self-destruct.

So I started scrollin through my phone...

And just the distraction of trying to decide who to call was enough to pull me out of my personal hell.

Then I chatted with Hoven for a few minutes, which is always a dream, and I was finally able to fall asleep.

 

SUCK IT RALPH!!!!!

 

PS

Going to see the Witch Doctor tomorrow.

Should be most enlightening!

Piano Talk

Do you ever feel like this piano?

 

I do.

 

Call me a sentimental fool, but this piano gives me hope.

 

At some point in our lives, we are all going to get beat up and battered.

 

We're going to feel like we can't do the things we once did.

 

That's one of the things I've struggled with most the last few months.

 

For so long, I didn't feel like ME.

 

I wasn't the fun, goofy, social creature I once was.

 

I was so terrified of people, that I hid in my bedroom for months.

 

Now slowly but surely, I'm coming back into myself.

 

Not the same I used to be....

 

SO MUCH BETTER.

 

I LIKE me. I LIKE the way I view the world now.

I'm CAPABLE of things that were just a dream before.

 

That's not to say I don't still hurt.

Every day is still an uphill battle, to get out of bed, to make myself look presentable, to go to work and school and be the best I can.

 

It's HARD.

 

But so incredibly worth it.

 

Change is a process. You're{most likely} not going to wake up one morning and feel whole again.

 

But if you keep doing your best, the pieces will continue to come together and you'll start to see the beauty that is....

 

YOU.

 

PS

Been kicking around an idea for a few months so I'm just going to spit it out.

I don't think for a second that I'm the only person who has a story to tell.

If you'd like to share yours anonymously or otherwise, feel free to email me at natroselewis@gmail.com

You can share just with me, or indicate you'd like it put on the blog.

I speak from experience when I say that writing is EXTREMELY THERAPUTIC.

 Even if you don't actually send your story to me, feel free to use this as motivation to put your thoughts into words.

#justanidea

 

Voice of Reason

I'm thankful for people who love me enough to tell me no.

The other night, I was in a state.

In desperate need of a

"Voice of Reason."

 

VofR: Hello.

Me: It's a bad idea for me to drive my car into a wall, or a pole right?

VofR: Yes. That's a very bad idea.

Me: Yeah.

VofR: Wanna know why?

Me: Yes.

VofR: If you do that, you'll hurt yourself.

Me: And that's bad...

VofR: Yes, Nat that's very bad. And you'll also hurt me.

Me: Oh. I don't want to do that. So...I'll just drive home.

VofR: Yes, drive home and you can punch your pillow.

Me: If I wear my boxing gloves can I punch a wall?

VofR: Yes. If you wear your boxing gloves you can punch a wall.

 

 

Like. I don't need that all the time.

In fact, it'd been months since I was this low.

Just goes to show that there's no such thing as "beating" a mental illness.

It's always going to be there, you just have to prepared.

Keep adding things to your tool box so when times of crisis come...you don't drive your car into a wall.