Things have seemed to be getting better lately. So why am I still having the GOD-DAMNED panic attacks? They aren’t as bad as they were a few months ago but they are still there. Almost everyday I think about having a heart attack. I hate living like this. It’s horrible living when you think about your death every day. At least its not every minute of every day…but even being distracted by it once or twice a day is enough to drive a man to go mad.

I’m on what I think is the tail end (I hope) of a mini-panic attack right now. I think the meds that the doctors have me on are helping a lot, without the Celexa (I don’t know how to spell it) I would be totally immersed in panic right now instead of the (ugh… slight?) panic I’m feeling. I just took two aspirin like I do every time I start to panic, just in case its the real thing. Then I drank some water and took 1/2 of a Xanax. Some people have said I’m addicted to Xanax but this is the first one I’ve taken in a week.

Okay…I just had to step away for a minute. Panic escalated. Still very nervous. Leg is shaking up and down as if I were about to make a speech or something. Not feeling great. Don’t know if its therapeutic to write about it or not but it is somewhat distracting. I took the other half of my Xanax. I’m really trying to limit my use since its seems that I’m giving the impression that I’m an addict. So this is the first “real” panic attack I’ve had in a week and the first Xanax I’ve taken. I’ve dealt with my other minor attacks for the last few weeks without taking a pill because just like the alcohol I have to prove I’m not an alcoholic by quitting drinking till a certain point.

I’m in the awful “Catch-22” about alcohol and pills. My doctors prescribe me pills to help me deal with the anxiety and panic because I’ve been diagnosed with General Anxiety and Panic Disorder. Now this is something I’ve been dealing with since the 1980’s however during the 1990’s at some point they subsided and I may have suffered one attack a year, if that many. But in the last few months they have returned full force. (See: This is what a Panic Attack feels like…) Obviously I don’t like panic attacks. They are horrible and the doctors have given me a drug called Xanax (actually the generic) to deal with it however if I take them I’m labeled an addict. So do I suffer the panic, do I run to the ER and exclaim I’m having a heart attack so I can become reassured that there are people to treat me. Sit for hours and hours on end while they do blood work and x-rays only to tell me I’m fine and give me a Xanax? So if I take a Xanax I’m an addict. If I don’t take a Xanax my panic escalates and I go to the ER where they give me a Xanax but then I’m not an addict. Okay so my Xanax seems to have kicked in and now I’m much better.

Several hours later, panic averted. So my reason for today’s post is because for the last several months I’ve been pretty down but things seem to be getting better for me emotionally as of the last month or so. Also in regards to my domestic situation, things have improved with my husband too. Part of his improving has to do with his reading this blog, after he discovered it he shared with me how said I made him with some of the things I said. I didn’t mean to make him sad, I was just writing my feelings. I didn’t mean to share my feeling with people I know, I wanted to remain anonymous (See: Sometimes I am so Stupid) but screwed that up. After that if no one else in the world was reading my blog I can assure you that he was reading it every day. But the good news is after he got over his disappointment he started doing something about it. He started becoming more active, he working on his health, he started caring again. All things he had given up on, he was truly just living to die, like my mother, like my father. He was in a downward spiral but seeing himself through my eyes, through my writing, inspired him to get active again. He forced himself to not only attend but follow through with Cardiac Rehabilitation. He has (for the most part) been eating healthy. He has been doing things again, small things, but he’s doing things. He’s helping out around the house as much as he’s able. I like, no LOVE, this change in him. In this respect I’m no longer sorry that he read my blog, he realized and he knows what I was writing was true.

Having a more active and healthy husband has drastically improved things around the house. We lost one over our beloved animals during the period of my extreme depression (See: Good-bye to my beloved Pet) and I was talking nearly daily about either waiting to die or just being done with this life (See: How Can I Go On? or I Don’t Like Myself) but now things seem better. It might be because of the drugs I’m taking or it might be that there is some life in my house again or it might a combination of both things. Things may get worse again because I have another dog that is probably within the last 6 months of her life. She is only a year younger that the dog that just passed away. My whole family is leaving.

So things have seemed better lately. They are getting better at work and just seem to be improving all around (except for our renter who is paying worse which means we are heading towards for “financial problems” now but as those in AA say: “One day at a time”. (See: House for Rent)). Our camping season is about to start and I’m looking forward to returning to The Woods Campground for another year and at the same time I’m worried that my husband will have another relapse and end up in the hospital again while we are there, I think it will always be on my mind because I predicted it last year and it happened, his defibrillator went off a number of times and he ended up being hospitalized 2.5 hours from our home.

Anyway the reason for this post is things seem to be getting better. I’m in a better mood and my husband seems to have made a turn around. I don’t wake up in the morning anymore wishing I had the balls to jump from the Francis Scott Key Bridge into the Chesapeake Bay. I don’t think about hanging myself from a tree in my backyard. I don’t think about just getting in the car and driving into a wall at 100 miles per hour. So I think I’m getting better.




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