Property Of : PANIC ATTACKS

It just happens outta nowhere, I could be perfectly fine and my foot would start to move uncontrollably, my heart starts pounding like if it’s going to burst out of my chest, I feel like I’m suffocating! I want to RUN, I want to SCREAM.  I don’t want to die yet! I have kids! I need to RELAX. Breathe Taii Breath.  Now I’m nauseous, and I’m alone with the baby… What if I choke, when will my husband find me? When will anyone find me? What’s MJ going to do when she calls out for me and I can’t attend to her?  That’s what it feels like when I’m having a PANIC ATTACK. I DO NOT WISH THESE ON MY WORST ENEMY.  But slowly they have taken over my life.

When I was younger I watched my mom being whisked away in a wheel chair to the hospital because of this, so I guess it’s hereditary. THANKS MOM. I will never forget that day or the look on her face when she was being pushed away on a stretcher.  I’m 100% sure she was feeling the same thing I feel every time when I get one. “I can’t leave my kids!” “They can’t be without their MOTHER”….

I got my first PANIC ATTACK when I was 15 years old.  During last period while I was in school, I wasn’t feeling well, I don’t know what was going on  but I knew I had to be at work by 3pm. I didn’t even wait for HOMMY, once that bell rang I just ran home, outta breath and I threw myself on my moms bed and screamed and cried.  I watched her call the ambulance and my boss. As I was being lifted on to the ambulance I saw HOMMY.  That’s definitely not how I wanted him to see me…with an oxygen mask and on a stretcher.  At that time I couldn’t explain to the hospital what was going on with me…How do you tell someone you think you’re about to die without them looking at you crazy? I was admitted for about a week, I was given tons of meds. I felt like I was high all day.  When I went home it was hard for me to get into what my normal routine was.  I was anxious all the time. I worried wayyy too much. I wasn’t living, I was trying to get by.

After a while I got back into the swings of things…my parents did everything in their power to find natural ways to make me feel better so that I wouldn’t be drugged up. I knew that if I took meds I would eventually lose my life, depending on meds at the age of 15 wasn’t something I wanted to do.  I remember crying at the thought of crossing the Williamsburg Bridge to visit my cousins in the Bronx and I would get another attack and would end up in the hospital again.  Once Hommy finally proposed to me we had plans on moving to Florida.  I kept on getting sick and although he was understanding we decided not to move because he was worried about what would happen if I was alone in a state and my parents not 5 mins away like they were.  I completely understood him.  It completely sucked but I understood him.

My panic attacks come and go as they please.  After I had Jaiden and he was old enough to notice I was crying, he would hug me and ask me if I was ok.  And although it was comforting at the time, I felt weak.  Just writing about it makes me feel weak.  What child wants to see their mother cry? And there I was on the floor sobbing and my little son trying to console me.  Here I am with baby number to and history is repeating itself.  You don’t know how many times I’ve slept all day just to have the day be over so another one can begin. How many times has my daughter stared into my eyes while I cried over something I cannot control.  And although crying at times make me feel better, the thought of my kids watching me go through it secretly kills me. What adult wants to call their husband screaming and crying for them to come home because of something they can’t control like a freaking PANIC ATTACK.

I know what you’re thinking….”go get help, go get meds…” But I can’t! I refuse to live a life where I’m drugged up. These attacks have taken a permanent residence in my life and I just have to suck it up and take them as they come.  Maybe they’ll never go away and maybe god willing they will.  But for now I have to accept that they are a part of my life.  And although I feel weak when they happen, my husband and kids know all about them and understand.  To me, IT’S OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY.  Please if you feel the same way, do not hesitate to comment below or send me a private message. Thanks for reading.