I had a panic attack today. It’s been a while since I had one of those. Unmistakable though: that sense of falling uncontrollably, as though the world of high walls is toppling over you and you can’t breathe. It has a dizzying momentum, a swirling that’s like fainting - actually, it’s most like that thing that you get when you’re really tired and you collapse onto the bed and close your eyes and feel the room spinning around you.
Only, your eyes are open and you can’t stop it. You can’t stop the spinning. Your heart feels like it might break free from your throat and there isn’t enough air in your lungs to even breathe, and all the world is a kaleidoscope of worry and trouble that’s melting and merging into colours like a wet painting.
Worst of all, it feels like it’s your fault somehow. Or as though people will judge you for letting it happen. Wait, would I judge someone else the same way? Would I assume they were weak? No. At least I hope not. Logic doesn’t seem to work any more though, on the emotional merry-go-round.
Sammy was great. She got me breathing, and refocused me on my surroundings. It took a while but sitting at the kitchen table, tracing the seagulls on the tablecloth and listening to the quiet hum of the fridge, really helped.
I think I’m living too close to capacity. What I mean is, one small extra worry - nothing in itself - is somehow able to crash the system. I don’t want to call myself a camel, and these are not as light as straw, but you get the picture. Somehow I need to unload a few worries from the saddle, build a little… margin… in.
And it’s okay, I mean quite a normal and understandable thing to have a panic attack. That’s a note to self by the way - from a man who has faith and worry operating his machinery, quite often. After all, I don’t think anyone would ever blame the camel.
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