Elsie

I really enjoy writing about Elsie.

It brings me great joy to know the struggles she went through. Even though she was unwilling to be grateful to God, do what He asked, which was so little, and accept the Help, only God could give her through Jesus, God never abandoned her.

 

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But….

A week or so ago, depending on when this gets published :) I experienced one of the worst panic/anxiety attacks I’ve had in years.

I was going about the daily routine but something was off.

It was familiar but foreign.

Later when I realized, ok, this is happening. Let’s see where we stand.

I took my heart rate…140…that can’t be right. Let’s calm our self, and let’s take it again, we should any way…132.

Ok, 132 is better, let’s make the third time a charm…136.

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Yep, it’s full on…I’m not running a marathon, hiking a mountain, or even on the treadmill??? I’m just going through the daily motions of life.

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I kept talking to the Lord through all this. He never abandoned me. Thank you God.

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I know the steps…what comes next…control the breathing, important we don’t need to be hyperventilating ;) headache, nausea, vertigo, vomiting(sorry), days of physical recovery(sore muscles, joints, etc)

It’s rational. All the things you’d expect, your body to do if your heart is been beating 132-140 beats per minute, for HOURS…..:):):)

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It’s another valley in life that has to be walked to get to the next blessing.

Yes, God can heal all of that, in that I have faith, and proof. But that depends on my faith, and it isn’t strong enough. It’s getting there because I’m not having these all day, everyday, anymore.

There’s my proof :)

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My faith isn’t strong enough to move a mountain yet either :):) BUT, again, that’s a “me” issue, not God ;)

Which brings me back to the lecture at hand.

I love writing about Elsie, but I didn’t like the memories it dredged up, which caused my physical distress last week.

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God has blessed me to not have this physical distress, that plagued me for decades, anymore.

I can be thankful for that and let that sleeping dog lay right where it is, or I can pick that scab, and keep digging at it, until I have a massive attack…hahaha. I can laugh now but when it was happening, it was anything but funny, and I swore never to write about Elsie again :):)

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They say that every person will have 2 panic/anxiety attacks in their life.

The second attack is usually always, always caused by fear of having one again. They will avoid talking about, avoid where it happened, avoid situations that are similar to when it happened.

Me writing about Elsie is equal to that.

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When I can, I will write about Elsie. When it won’t cause the physical reaction that comes along with it. If it was therapeutic, and needed to be talked out, then I would. As it stands, it’s already been beat to death, and is a dead issue. Now it is just a memory, like all the others, that I have.

Is it perfect? NO. Nothing is! When I become perfect, never mind … hahaha :) …we know that’s not happening ;):)

God Bless you :)

 

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What Elsie Didn’t Know…

Elsie finishes making her bed, still sobbing, still 50 thoughts simultaneously swirling in her head, heart still pounding. She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror through her tears that stops her dead in her tracks.

Shew, I look crazy. I am crazy thats why I look crazy. Look at me, tears covering my face, red faced, puffed eyes, foaming at the mouth…they are going to lock me up sooner or later. Probably sooner, than later,  if anyone sees what I look like right now…quit, don’t go there…there’s no time for this….stop it, STOP IT!

She didn’t know how she was going to get through another day.

What Elsie also didn’t know is when she is 32, she is diagnosed with panic and anxiety disorder. The decades of hiding it, suppressing it was too much, and Elsie’s body just began to shut down, literally

Her doctor said it was the worst case of anxiety and panic he had ever seen.

What made Elsie different than other cases he had diagnosed, is Elsie didn’t have the “typical” panic and anxiety attacks, that most people have, the ones that will hit, run their course and subside.

Elsie woke up with the her heart pounding  130 plus beats, all the other symptoms, and it lasted until she went to bed at night. All day, every day. 

The doctor and physiatrists were astonished Elsie could sit there, as if nothing was happening to her, when her vitals told them that she was in distress.

It would all make sense then. The constant heart attack feeling, her nausea, her head aches, her feeling of being crazy, and needing to, or fear of being locked away, the vertigo, the depression, the list went on, and on. To Elsie it read like a daily schedule.

Elise was comforted to know that it wasn’t her. She wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t going to have heart failure at any minute.

Now, they could work on the physical, and figure out why it was happening…but the memories…those are a different story….

 

This Morning…

Elsie woke up crying. She looks over at the clock but can’t see the time though the blur of tears welled up in her eyes, streams of them running down her face, dripping into her hair, and onto her pajamas. Wiping her eyes, trying to see the time. Tears uncontrollable.

There’s no stopping them. She knows this, so she doesn’t even try. This happens every…single… day. Her thoughts flooding in…

Morning again. Another day. I hate this! Already crying, already feeling like I’m going to have a heart attack.

What is wrong with me? Nobody wakes up crying!! Nobody wakes up feeling like this!

Why can’t I be normal?!?

Trying to breath, head too clogged up from sobbing. Pull it together! SUCK IT UP!  Every one feels this way, just deal with it! I hate this! I don’t want to do this anymore.

Her heart feels like it’s going to explode it’s beating so fast. Please let it explode, PLEASE.

Why did I wake up? Lord, couldn’t you have taken me? Please take me. People die every day, why couldn’t I be one of them? I don’t want to be here.

I don’t want to be here…I don’t want to be here…I don’t want to be here.

Her heart still beating so rapidly that she can feel it throbbing through her whole body, beating like a drum.

It’s 3:30 a.m. It’s only been 10 minutes since she woke up.

Elsie is still crying.

That won’t last for much longer. Everyone will be getting up soon. She will have, at least, another 12 hours to hide all this, to suck it up, pretend to be happy. To make those hasty exits to the bathroom when she can’t hold back the tears any longer…..