, , , , , , ,

I had a panic attack in my sleep last night, I’m not sure what triggered it.  More than likely just the crazy high stress I’ve been living with the last few weeks.  I majorly pissed off my sister by spending some of my settlement money on myself without talking to her about it.  So K being K, the last couple of days have been filled with condescension, anger and hateful words.

Panic attacks don’t really phase me any more.  I’ve been having them since I was 5 years old.  But the one last night was unsettling. I was having a very vivid dream and the panic attack happened in the dream too.  I woke up gasping for breath, sweating, twitching, mind racing a million directions at once.  But in my dream I was at Church, and things weren’t in order and one little thing was happening after another and I could feel myself headed towards the Panic Attack zone and I couldn’t stop it.  This man who I didn’t really know recognizes the signs too, and moves me away from the main group and as I’m going into a full blown attack, he wraps his arms around me in this tight unyielding embrace, so tight that I can’t move.  He is whispering to me that it’s Okay, this happens to lots of people, I just need to breathe.  Just to keep breathing. That PTSD and Panic Attacks and Depression aren’t failures on our part.  And he keeps reminding me to breath.  When the worse of it is over, he relaxes his arms slightly and I cry into to his chest for a few moments.  In true Shana fashion I pull myself together was quickly as possible and he releases me.  And I wake up and find myself really coming down from a panic attack.

The dream really unsettled me, and I’m not sure why.  I wasn’t able to go back to sleep quickly and spent an hour or two reading my book and surfing Facebook before I was able to get back to sleep.

When I got up this morning I felt overwrought, very fragile.  I spent most of the morning feeling like I was on the cliff edge of another panic attack.  I still feel unsettled, worn & torn.

I get asked “How are you?” and I never know how to answer.  Some days I’m amazing, awesome, and the sky is blue.  Other days, to be honest, most days this last year or so, I’m just surviving.  My only goal to make it through another day.  To just keep breathing and putting one foot in front of the other.  It’s really been hitting me lately how much the lack of physical contact with others is getting to me.  I miss physical contact.  A hand on the shoulder, a long, strong hug.  I guess maybe my dreams are bring that point to light again.