This morning

This morning my son and I made a mad dash and jumped onto the crowded stinky NYC metro right before the doors closed. I looked over and saw a female in her mid 20's waving her hand over her face to cool herself down. It was chilly and raining today so my first thought was that it must be really hot in here in the subway. After few minutes I glanced over again and she was still fanning her face. Then she started to take her jacket off. She then asked the man sitting down if he could get up so she could sit. I looked down and saw that her breathing was really labored. She was having a panic attack.

I wanted to reach out to her and help her. I remember when having my full blown panic attack people asking me what was wrong actually solidified my panic and made it worse. However I quickly asked ( couldn't help it) and she responded that she did not know what was happening to her.

Part of me wanted to say, "Your having a panic attack!" In the hopes that she could learn about what was happening to her before it got any worse. That would not have been the best thing to do though. She was hyperventilating and just closed her eyes. My son and I got off and I do not know what happened. I hope she is OK.

It brought up memories of my second full blown panic attack which happened about a year after my first one. I never thought I would have another one. I was going through a lot of emotional stress due to what was happening to my son in school. I was also up in New York b/c I had an appointment with my lawyer who was handling my father's estate.

On October 31 had called me up crying over the phone that my mom ( his grand mom) was not going to take him to the Halloween hayride. He went when he was 9 years old and that was one of the fondest memories of his grandma and of South Carolina. His heart was broken. I begged her to take him. She was upset about him getting detentions almost every other day, and said no.

My son called me up saying he was thinking of running away from home. There was so much sadness in his voice. He had been through so much in that South Carolina public school and this was the icing on the cake. My mom validating a bunch of racist pigs picking on him for being Hispanic.

When I travel I always take a picture with me of him. Ironically the one I had chosen for this particular trip was a photo I had with me was the one from when he was 9 attending that same Hayride he wanted to go to so badly. I wanted him as well b/c that to me represented a part of his youth and innocence. I wanted him to get in touch with that again.

My sleep was all messed up. I cried every night. Then I think it was on the 3 or 4th of November when PANIC showed it's ugly face again. I was feeling really sick and hot. I thought to myself
" Oh my god I need to go sit down somewhere." I went into the first restaurant I could find. The Heartland Brewery at the Empire State Building. I asked the host if I could get a table b/c I needed to sit down b/c I was feeling very sick. He informed me that tables were only for people eating full meals. The restaurant was very busy. Then he told me I could go over to the bar instead.

T The actual place where I had my second panic attack

I went over to the bar and there was no place to sit. All the seats were taken. I was standing up and waited for like 15 minutes. The bartender was busy. I ordered mashed potatoes, spinach, and Sprite. My order took forever to get to me. I started feeling even sicker. I ran to the same host and asked him if I could please sit down somewhere. He informed me once again that there was no table ready and I could only sit down if I was ordering a full meal. I told him that I would order a full meal...that I was really feeling sick. I went back to the bar started sweating....and stood for a few more minutes and the BOOM.

Something in my mind went on slow motion. I can best described it as a stick shift car going from gear 5 to neutral in less than a second. The gears changed and then I fell down to the floor.

I was terrified of the body twitching ( they felt like convulsions) I had experienced a year before when I had my first panic attack. I just thought to myself oh no please not again not again ....not here ...not now....My brain was flooded with the thought that I might die...my heart might give out on me....and my son would be stuck in that terrible situation if I were to die

I couldn't breath. I was scared out of my mind. After a few minutes I forced myself up again. I wanted to escape somewhere. I asked where the ladies room was and went down a large wooden staircase. The place was huge downstairs. There were more tables ...more people.I found the first empty table and collapsed my upper body on an empty table. I'll never forget the manager there at Heartland Brewery. She stayed with me until the ambulance got there. I was in a fetal position, hyperventilating . ... She was so kind. Without her I think I might of passed out.

The ambulance took me to Beth Israel, and was talked out of my panic attack by a wonderful Doctor there in the E.R. room.

As many bad people that I've met during the worst parts of my panic attacks and development of panic disorder, I've met kind compassionate human beings as well.

I should be filling my mind with the positive memories ( sounds like a silly statement when remembering panic attacks) and positive people instead of just focusing on the uneducated angry sadistic people I've also encountered.

Speaking of positive people I went to see my psychiatrist again. He is wonderful. I feel so lucky to have found him. He knows about my situation and is charging me about 1/3 of what he normally charges. I expressed to him my concerns about Clonzopen. I told him I had weaned myself off of it. I told him I was learning to control my panic attacks now, and that I only wanted something lighter to take. I mentioned xanax.

Now that I've educated myself of Benzopines I do not want them in my blood stream non stop.I've said this before, and I'll say it again. Clozopine was a life safer in the worst stages - and gave me time to educate myself and probably nipped more panic attacks in the bud.

I want to have something for an emergency crisis...for a plane ride...in other words as a "just in case". So he prescribed me 60 for two months.

I haven't even felt the need to go to pharmacy and pick them up !


I did mention to him how depressed I was. Panic disorder and perhaps aftereffects of the Clozpen tapering it's self had lead me to feel worthless and depressed. I mean everyday for the past two months the tears just roll down my eyes.

He suggested an anti-depressant. Now for me to accept this and say yes was a big deal to me. I knew I needed to give something a try. I told him I wanted the least amount of medicine and my main concern was getting off of it. I never want to experience withdrawal symptoms again in my life!

I've set a guideline and will only be using this medication until things in my life settle down, and until my dad's estate is closed. He gave me a Lexapro sample that will last me for a month. So two days ago I started 5 milligrams of Lexapro per day. And I hate to admit this...but it's totally stopped that gear function in my mind that kick started the hyperventilation...and hampered any anticipatory anxiety from starting.

I have more to write about this tomorrow, and will be doing a journal of my experience with this medicine. I can't believe I am taking an anti-depressant. It is so against my beliefs - but oh well. Like my mom said,

"When you get a headache do you feel bad about taking an aspirin?"

No

"Well then why do you feel bad about taking an antidepressant if you really need it?"