Hiding The Fear Within

At 51 years of age I feel the urge to finally share my experience. I am positive there are many others who continue to suffer silently as I did. For the last 33 years, I have been a victim who for 24 of those years suffered silently with this horrible affliction that can take over your entire life after only one episode.

My story begins in the year 1970. I was 19 years old at the time and considered myself a normal working young adult. I had a good job at an insurance company, a steady boyfriend and a wonderful family. I thought life couldn’t be better and things were just going great. It was a bright sunny day in June that would soon change all of that.

I wanted to get my hair cut and styled and try the new hairdresser that my mom suggested I check out in downtown Toronto. She suggested that I call and make an appointment after work. I got off work at 4:30 on the day of my hair appointment. Once I reached the subway station I noticed it was busier then usual during this particular rush hour. It wasn’t until the subway train I was seated on reached the third stop that I began to feel very strange. All of a sudden I felt complete panic take over. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would burst through my chest, my palms were all sweaty, my throat was completely dry and I felt I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was having a heart attack and I don’t know how I made it through the next two stops before I was to reach my destination. I ran off the train and quickly made my way to the hairdressing salon. As I was running along, I thought what is wrong with me? What is happening? My legs felt like jelly and as if they would no longer hold me up. I couldn’t even think straight or concentrate enough to calm myself down.

Finally, arriving at the salon, I was told to take a seat and someone would be with me in 10 to 15 minutes. My fear was not subsiding and all I wanted to do was get up and run out of there, which is exactly what I ended up doing. I ran all the way back to the subway station and couldn’t wait to get home. As the subway train finally pulled into my stop, I finally felt myself begin to relax. I also felt very embarrassed and silly at what I had just done and wondered what the hairdresser must think of me. That night I never told anyone what I had experienced. I felt too silly and wrote it off as a case of bad nerves, not realizing that this was only the beginning of my nightmlare.

That morning I got up as usual to go to work. I got dressed, put on my makeup, ate a good breakfast and thought now I am ready for the day. During the bus ride to work I started to think about what happened to me the last time I was on the subway. I was very tense and wondered what I would do if that feeling came back. What would I do, how would I handle it? Nonsense , I told myself, you have been riding this bus for two years with no incidents. Everything will be okay, I told myself. But it was not okay, not more then 10 minutes later another attack began. The pounding heart, the sweaty palms, the dry throat, the shortness of breath, the fear of dying right in front of all those people. I was so afraid that I was either dying or going insane because I couldn’t understand what was happening to me.

Over the next several weeks things became much worse. I was so paralyzed with fear that I had to quit my job. I confided my symptoms to only my mother. We made an appointment to see a doctor. I was diagnosed with anxiety attacks and given a prescription for tranquilizers. Remember, it is 1971 and panic disorder was not the clearly recognized disorder it has become today. I refused to take the tranquilizers because I knew they would only mask my problem, not cure it. I was also terrified of the side effects of such a medication. I knew what I was experiencing was real and not something dreamed up in my head. The question was, where to get help? Who could understand? I felt so alone and thought I was the only person in the world experiencing such terrifying episodes of fear. Since I couldn’t find any help and was fearful of medications, I had no choice but to ride out my attacks as they came which was a very difficult thing to do.

I married my steady boyfriend of five years in 1972 and thought that starting a family would help me eliminate my panic attacks. I did become pregnant and was thrilled at the thought. However, the panic attacks did not subside and to make it worse my marriage was a very abusive one. After six years of constant mental abuse and more frequent panic attacks I fled this marriage and never once looked back.

It was now 1978 and I met my second husband who became the father of my second child. Suddenly for the first time and for no apparent reason my panic attacks subsided substantially. I was really happy in my second marriage and assumed that being content helped eliminate most of the attacks. I even managed take a course to be an ECE teacher. I opened my own day care business in the basement of my home. This business flourished for 10 years. It was not to last, because suddenly in 1993 at the age of 42 the attacks reappeared with a vengeance. I was beginning to lose sleep and I could not bare the thought of an eight to nine hour day of child care that I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle. How could I look after these sweet, dear little toddlers when I knew I would have to handle my horrific panic attacks, which were now occurring constantly at all times of the day and night. Anyone who has ever experienced such, knows that you become completely paralyzed with fear, you cannot move or even concentrate on anything but the attack.

I knew I had no choice but to give up my day care business. How would I break the news to those wonderful parents, who’s children I had cared for since they were only 6 month old infants? I wouldn’t have to worry about that after all. As you see the week before I was to break the news I had a panic disorder victims worst fear come true. I suffered a spontaneous brain hemorrhage and required six hours of life saving surgery and several months of rehabilitation.

Today at 51 years of age, I have learned that my panic attacks are something I will have to live with for the rest of my life. There is no magic cure. There is of course medications that will help some people cope and there are certain self help techniques to help you get through the attacks or help you completely avoid future attacks. However, the most important thing I learned is that I will not die from a panic attack. What happened to me was not a result of my panic disorder.

For those of you who continue to suffer silently, you need to seek out the help that is available to you. Don’t be afraid to tell others what you are experiencing. There are several support groups. You are not alone. You are not going crazy, you are unfortunately experiencing a chemical imbalance in your brain which causes and triggers panic attacks.

There are millions of people today who continue to suffer silently with this disorder, so afraid others will not understand. If my story helps just one of you to seek help and not suffer silently, then it was a story worth sharing.

Lynn
lynnmiller16@hotmail.com
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