3:17 a.m. Pacific Standard Time

Yes, it is after three in the morning and I am awake again. I had a nightmare that I could not shake so I just got up for some toast and a glass of milk. Nightmares.  They can leave us feeling paralyzed long after they have ended.  In this one I was in one of the houses that I grew up in.  It was the house I was living in when my panic attacks were at there worst. I would literally be unable to move and would end up wetting my pants.  After, I would sit in my urine soaked pants and have to wait until the fear and panic would pass.  Then I would take my humiliated self to the bathroom and clean and get changed them put yet another set of clothes in the wash.  My god it was horrible.  Anyway, in this dream I was living back in this house but I was holding my daughter as a baby.  The house was so dark I could not see.  The TV was on but there was no light coming from it. Voices came through the TV telling me all the ways a woman can be raped.  In the dream I finally got up to turn lights on but none of them worked.  The phone rang and it was my ex-husband.  I wanted him to come and get me but he wouldn't.  I hung up the phone and thought that Gary (my now husband) would come and get me and that is when I woke up.  Right away I snuggled into his back and he put his arm around me.  I could not get back to sleep so here I am now, blogging about it.

When I was growing up my panic attacks were debilitating. The thing is, I never told anyone because I didn't know that they were not normal. Or maybe I did but my shame prevented me from telling anyone.  I wet the bed well into my teenage years because if it. My mom and dad were always supportive and never shamed me. My mom or dad usually got up and helped me change my bed.  Do you know how awful it was wetting the bed at 15/16 years old?  As I went into my 20's the I no longer wet the bed but the panic stayed.  It changed the way it hit me.  Panic is nasty like that. It morphs just when you think you have a way to figure it out. It changed again and again in my 30's and now 40's.  Now it is something that sits on the fringes of my life. Always there.  The Black Dog of Depression waits with it. They are a team.  But they do not know that I know them well and that I am stronger now.  I know how they work.  I make sure I get a lot of sleep because I need more than most people.  I meditate, receive Reiki and do yoga.  No longer do I watch the news or watch scary TV shows or movies. Once when  was in my 30's I watched a movie called Wrong Turn and I had nightmares for months afterwards.  I have also educated myself on being a Highly Sensitive Person  answering all questions on the self test in the affirmative, except one. I have also educated myself on Sensory Overload. And of course, when all else fails there is Ativan. 

It is sad that my son now has panic attacks but I am glad that he has me as his mom who can teach his how to deal with them.  My daughter, is one of those people that seems to glide through life, rarely getting upset or stuck.  She shakes he head at me and my son but tries to understand and he supportive. My husband. Thank for my husband.  He is the only human on the planet that recognizes my panic about to set in before I do.  Last week we were out for lunch and he knew we needed to leave because it was getting to be too much for me.  Usually I can last about 30-45 minutes before I need to leave a public place like a restaurant.  Malls are less.  Maybe 10 minutes if I am pushing myself and it is not that busy. Mostly I avoid malls. 

The thing is, I like the way I am.  Yes, I get overwhelmed easily but I also have a deep spirituality. God, whoever he/she/it is has a strong influence in my life.  When I came to this earth the spiritual umbilical cord was never severed. Music, especially classical moves me very deeply. The written word sends forth life to my weary heart and brain. (That is the reason I read blogs.) I love art and nature.  My happiness does not come from thing. (I do love my hot tub though!)

If someone could tell me that I would never have another panic attack again but I would have to give up my inner life I wouldn't do it.  The two go hand in hand.  Why?  I have no idea.  It is just the way it is for me.

Well, the nightmare has abated and I think I am ready to go back to bed.