Colors too bright, or too dull
Faces are fuzzy
Repeat…Repeat…until the headache
Anxiety attacks are something that I have experienced since I was a kid. You would think in the 20+ years that I have experienced them, I would have developed sure-fire techniques for calming myself. Truth is, I haven’t. When I have an anxiety attack, I can rarely attach it to what triggered the attack and I am left feeling so frustrated that I can control so many things, but not those. They terrify me because not only are they physically painful, they, are such a harsh reminder that there is an edge – a place where I simply do not understand myself or my triggers and if I don’t understand them, how do I avoid them, or heal?
Why am I sharing this? Well, hell, why do I share 99% of what I share? I am sharing because I can count on one hand the number of people that I have told that I get anxiety attacks. As I grow older, and I hope a touch wiser in some areas, I realize that so much of my growth is a result of taking my personal struggle out from behind the curtain that I have tried to hide it behind and bringing it into the light. For, you see, in the light, a struggle that is shared is something that others can relate to and is courageous, not the weakness that I have always felt that it was.
More and more I value so much when others are willing to be vulnerable and share about their struggles. I am sure that there are those who stumble on my blog who maybe have known me in various social circles over the years and may cast judgement on the amount that I am willing to share. I can say, that I am 100% comfortable with that. I would rather be judged for attempting to reduce stigmas and normalize struggles than continuing the status quo.
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly.”
So, to end, my name is Katie. I have panic attacks. They are scary. If you do as well, I am here. You don’t have to experience them alone.