May is National Mental Health month. It’s also my birthday month. I’m guessing that’s just a coincidence though.
I have some updates as it’s been a while since I’ve done anything with the blog. Last time we spoke I was in a dark place. I was seeing a less-than-helpful therapist and I felt trapped – in my relationships, my thoughts, and even in my own skin.
Since then, I’ve dumped my therapist and started seeing someone who is so wonderful and compassionate and smart and she even has a therapy dog named Snuggles. Get this – my new therapist is in the same practice as my old one, in fact, her office is right next door. Now when I leave my therapy appointments I just shake my head and think to myself, “I was so close and yet so far away from the help I needed.”
I’ve only had three sessions with my new therapist but I can tell we just click on a level that I was never going to get to with the old one. So, if you’re dreading your next appointment, or you’ve held off on looking for a therapist because of a bad experience, let me encourage you to get back out there! I had a recommendation for my new therapist for 9 weeks before I made the phone call. But, I won’t dwell on lost time because that’s not productive, apparently.
In the short time since seeing my new therapist, I’ve already learned some really helpful tools for dealing with anxiety before, during, and after a panic attack. I’ve even had the opportunity to put them into practice.
My most recent panic attack happened during my annual physical. I don’t know what it is about going to the doctor’s office that turns my anxiety up to 11. The nurse collected me from the waiting room and took me to a room to get my vitals. That was all well and good, and I wasn’t even a little bit panicky. But then she told me to get undressed and put on that super flattering gown that opens in the back and my heart started pounding. She left and I slipped on the stupid gown. I spent quite a bit of time and nervous energy trying to contort my arms and fingers in such a way as to tie the stupid gown closed so I would maybe feel at least little bit less vulnerable, but I had no such luck. I gave up and sat on the table with the crinkly paper, staring at the clock.
My heart was still pounding and I could feel my breath getting more shallow with each inhale, desperately trying to stay on top of my reactions – both physically and emotionally. Instead of focusing on telling myself not to feel anything, or not to cry, or telling myself all the reasons why I’m being ridiculous, I tried grounding myself in where I was. I looked around the room and named 5 objects and their physical descriptions. (Yes, I realize sitting alone in a room talking to myself might not seem like an improvement on the mental health scale, but stick with me here). When that stopped being useful and I felt the flood of negative thoughts rushing forward, I deployed another tactic – calling forth the powers of the left side of my brain!
My therapist told me that with anxiety, the right side of the brain is in overdrive and people get “flooded” with negative thoughts. I loved that analogy because it’s so on point. When I get in that mindset it definitely feels like I’m drowning and I cannot come up for air – and then I literally can’t breathe, which doesn’t help with the general sense of panic and anxiety. So, to distract the flood of thoughts from the right side of the brain, it can be helpful to intentionally use the left, analytical side of the brain. One easy way to do this is to count backward from 100 by 7. Yeah, didn’t see that coming, did you? Count backward by 5, no problem, but 7? That’s kind of the point. You actually have to concentrate on what the next number would be.
So, there I was, sitting on the table, ripping the crinkly paper into little pieces and counting backward from 100 in groups of 7. This actually worked surprisingly well. For the next 10 minutes, I almost felt like I wasn’t going to burst into tears. My doctor was running late so lucky for me I still had a good 15 minutes to undo all of my progress and start hyperventilating again, which is exactly what I did.
Finally, finally, the doctor walked in.
Doctor: I’m sorry for being late!
Me: **Makes some sort of squeaking noise that I hope gives the impression of, “Oh it’s cool, no big deal, let’s just move along.” **
Doctor: So is that a yes? You accept my apology?
Me: **Promptly bursts into tears**
Doctor: …
Me: …
Doctor: Oh, yes, I remember you from last year. You cried a lot then too.
Good to know I make a lasting impression.
I did ok for most of the routine stuff but by the time we got to the more hands-on portion of the exam, I hurtled headlong into a panic attack. My poor doctor couldn’t even touch me to try and comfort me without me recoiling in a mix of horror and embarrassment. Long, painful story short, we decided to reschedule “when I’m in a better state of mind,” ha.
My pre-panic attack plan of action did work temporarily but in the aftermath of the doctor appointment from hell, it was time to take out the post-panic attack journaling activity. I found this super helpful and I have a link to the worksheet here. The whole goal of the Awareness Journaling activity is to create a safe space to examine your feelings surrounding a particular event. These feelings are not good or bad, they are simply what you are feeling in the moment and you can observe them and try to understand what leads you to that reaction.
One of the most fascinating questions on the worksheet is about beliefs and assumptions. “What are your beliefs or assumptions about God, yourself, or others because of your feelings, reactions, and/or resulting behavior? Finish these sentences: When I feel this way, I believe I am… When I feel this way, I believe others… When I feel this way, I believe God…” I’ve never really thought about my assumptions about God or others while I’m in the middle of freaking out. I have all sorts of negative opinions about myself, of course, but what do I actually believe about God in the middle of a panic attack?
It took some digging to find an honest answer. At first, I wrote, “When I feel this way, I believe God still loves me.” Lame Sunday School answer. I tried again. “When I feel this way, I believe God has grace for my doubts. Better, but still not very accurate. I closed my eyes and pictured myself sitting on the exam table, this time, all joking aside. My raw, uncensored feelings were those of terror, shame, and helplessness. When I feel this way, I believe I am too damaged to ever be made whole. When I feel this way, I believe others won’t know what to do with my truth. When I feel this way, I honestly believe God has abandoned me.
The next question asked if I’ve ever felt that way before in my past. How much of my beliefs and reactions to the present situation are actually about things that have happened in the past? “Triggers are overreactions in the present because past wounds are mixing with current experiences.” It didn’t take long to figure out which past experiences caused a present-day panic attack.
The hardest part about working this exercise isn’t being honest, it’s not judging your honest answers. I am so used to filtering myself and labeling feelings as right or wrong that I don’t ever stop and notice what those feelings are pointing to. My assumption that I am too damaged isn’t accurate, but it reveals that I have a lack of understanding and belief in God’s power over sin and death. And yes, my belief that others won’t be able to handle my truth may or may not prove to be true in certain cases, but it also shows that my desire is in the wrong place – I want to be seen and known and understood by people without being satisfied by the fact that I am already seen and known and fully understood by God. Finally, my belief that God has abandoned me doesn’t line up with the truth of Scripture, but that feeling does point to a deeper issue – I lack a complete understanding of who God is and what His intentions are for me.
“Thereafter, Hagar used another name to refer to the Lord, who had spoken to her. She said, ‘You are the God who sees me.'” – Genesis 16:13