Panic Attacks

Do any of you live with panic attacks, too?

I tried to go to a small class at a herb farm this morning. It was about growing your own tea garden. I love tea in a slightly obsessive, I-have-more-than-I could-drink-in-a-year, kinda way. And, I keep buying it! Anyway, this class seemed perfect: small, a subject that interested me, out in the middle of nowhere. Needless to say, the old panic attack kicked in less than half-way through the class. I felt like I was suffocating. The room was spinning a little. It felt as if I would die if I didn't get out of there right then. I snuck out as much as you can sneak out of a small crowd. I walked around outside, but the feeling wouldn't pass. I left and went to the car to cry. 

I take my medicine, do what I'm told to do, but I still have them. And, I can't stand it. It's so frustrating to feel like something inside of me is sabotaging my life. Do you feel that way when you have them?

Following up on yesterday's post, I started making a list of the things I still want out of life, again. I did my best to really listen to my heart and soul. I was surprised by the things that I listed, at least some of the bigger ones. There are a couple of things I think I had given up on when I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, before the psychosis and panic attacks, etc. 

I'm not ready to list them here yet, but I will someday, probably soon. I want to show the list to my therapist on Monday, watch her jaw hit the floor and listen to what she has to say. I'm curious if she will be supportive or not. And, I'm not sure where that leaves me if she isn't. My therapy lately has revolved so much around getting my disability, adjusting to living back at my parents house, etc. Necessary subjects, but not getting to the heart of what I really need to talk about: the things on this list, my purpose. 

I'm just gonna throw this out here with the preface that I know I am nowhere near ready for any kind of relationship. Could you date someone with a mental illness who lived at home with her parents? Neither of those situations will change for me, even when I am healthier and doing better in general. My house is being sold. My income will be too limited to move. I'll still have bipolar disorder and its complications. So, I just wonder, in the future, will there be a man who can see past that and see me?

I Need a Do-Over!

If there were a re-commitment ceremony for bloggers, I would have to have one. 

I have my excuse in thirty, yes, thirty pages of paperwork I've filled out for social security these last two weeks, along with the phone tag I've been playing with my long-term disability claims examiner for my work disability. They told me this would be a frustrating, tedious process; they didn't lie. 

While I was slowly muddling my way through all the questions, I kept thinking about the other people with serious mental illnesses who need this, too. How in the world would a schizophrenic with no help ever make it past page one? If I weren't medicated, I'd never have made it. And, the meds make me much slower than I normally would be. Frustrating. And, it's not set-up for mental health at all. What difference does it make how much weight I can lift?!

Just had to get that off my chest. Maybe I should write an article for Bust magazine about it. I love that magazine. (Sorry, guys, no naked women there!)

I've done a lot of thinking while playing twenty questions with the government. Nothing better to make your mind wander than endless paperwork. Mostly I've been thinking about a purpose. 

I'm a fairly young woman, 38, almost 39. What is my purpose now that I am not a nurse, now that I am no longer defined by my career? It would nice to say, "You can be anything," but the truth is that I have serious limitations. If not, there would be no need for the disability. I cannot function in public, with other people. Stores and other crowded places cause panic attacks. I often have a hard time overcoming my agoraphobia at all during a week. I have to give up sleep to go swim before the sun has come up because there are fewer people at the pool at 6 a.m.

That's just one feature of my illness. So, anything is not really an option. But, there are options. I just don't know which road to take. My therapist calls this psychotic break of mine a life "do-over." She says that now is the time to find my true purpose, my true calling. I don't have a clue how to do that. I've prayed, made lists, cried, prayed some more, tried to paint, write...you can see how this isn't working. 

Maybe this is my mid-life crisis and psychotic break all rolled up into one big bundle. I'm curious how other people have faced this. Did you feel this way when you became disabled, for those of you who have gone on this journey already? Is it okay to live life without a grand plan or big dream? (Somehow it feels empty to me that way.) Let me know what you think. 

I apologize for the long break. I will try to be a more committed blogger, as long as no one commits me! (Just a little mental health humor, lol, a very little!)