The Story of my Break-Through

I have always been anxious. As a child, whenever I would feel panicky, my parents would say I was having an “uh-oh” and it was totally normal. Growing up with a psychiatrist as a dad and a therapist as a mother definitely helped me understand anxiety a little better but it didn’t make it go away. When I went away to college I was given my first Xanax prescription for whenever the “uh ohs” got too bad. I was always warned about the addictive nature of these pills so I was super cautious about using them. Once college ended and the real world began I started to explore anti-anxiety meds and settled on Prozac after some trial and error and knowing my mom was on it and it worked for her. My mom and I shared the anxiety gene and were both diagnosed with “generalized anxiety disorder” and she was always my rock for helping me deal with my panic attacks throughout my twenties. My biggest trigger was always driving long distances alone and I remember pulling over on the side of the road, calling her in a panic that I needed to turn around or call an ambulance and she would always remind me that this is just a feeling and it will reach its peak and then dissipate and I cannot let the anxiety win. This mentality stuck with me for the rest of my life but finally caught up to me this June.

For most of my life, I fought hard against my anxiety and listened to my mother’s words of wisdom of “not letting the anxiety win”. I always dealt with things in a calm manner and sort of rolled with the punches. So when I was diagnosed with a brain tumor at 22 years old and told I would need brain surgery, I took it day by day. Turned out, after years of testing and doctor’s visits and countless MRI’s that it was actually a cyst that I was most likely born with and has yet to grow in size for the last 20 years (thankfully). But the two-year ordeal and unknown of what would happen in my brain, was truly a scary experience that I never actually stopped to acknowledge. Then, when my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer as I was pregnant with my second baby and died only 4 months after being diagnosed, I did not fall apart. I again rolled with the punches and had to stay strong for the baby inside of me and my two-year-old at home. A year after having my second son, I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer, and as scary as it was having just dealt with my mother’s death from cancer, I knew I had two small boys and a husband who needed their mama and wife and just had do what needed to be done and keep my head up. So I had a full thyroidectomy, recovered, came home, and moved on with my life. A few years after that ordeal, I was put in a position at my teaching job where I would be moved to the high school, I had been teaching middle school for 15 years at that point. Rather than deal with this adjustment, I ended up applying for and getting a new teaching position at a more prestigious school district but that meant starting completely over in the career that I had spent years crafting. But yet again, I needed to be strong and confident and take on all of these challenges without giving in to the burning anxiety inside of me. When I look back at the adversity I have faced, it seems like a lot, but all the while, with the help of Prozac and my family, I dealt with everything and never let it break me down. Well, that breakdown finally came.

My dad doesn’t like to call it a breakdown, but rather a breakthrough and this is how I am choosing to look at it as well because I am learning so much about myself through all of this.

In May of this year, I started getting anxiety attacks again. They started off small but then I noticed them in places where I wouldn’t normally get them- while teaching, while being at home, in comfortable situations. I had stopped taking Prozac a few weeks before and switched to Lexapro because I was having stomach issues and then with the help of a psychiatrist, he switched me again to Buspar instead of the Lexapro. Well, my body couldn’t take it. I went into complete shock and withdrawal from the Prozac leaving my body and the constant shift in medications. Suddenly, I was panicking all the time. On my way to work, at work, on my way home, while I was making dinner for my kids, all day long. It was not something I had experienced before. The situation escalated when I was supposed to go on a girl’s trip to Nashville with my friends. A trip we had planned for almost a year. As the days got closer to leave, my anxiety levels seemed to multiply and I woke up the day of the trip in complete crisis mode. I was shaking, couldn’t catch my breath, was in a full-on panic attack and nothing could calm me down. Not Xanax, not my husband, not talking to my dad. At one point, I even asked my husband to bring me to the ER. I was convinced I needed medical attention and needed to be committed. This panic was unlike anything I have ever experienced because it happened at home, with my loved ones, in a safe space, not normally where I would panic. This episode set my body in a tailspin and for days after, I could not leave my husband’s side. I had to go to work with him, he couldn’t leave me home alone, I wasn’t driving, and I was terrified of having another panic attack. I was scared to be alone, scared to be in my house, scared of everything. I was paralyzed. I realized then that this was something different, this was withdrawal but also, as my dad called it a “breakthrough”. My body was telling my mind it was done. I needed rest. I needed to stop. I needed to take care of myself. I needed to deal with some of the traumas I have encountered and just be. So I listened. For the first time in over 20 years, I listened to my body and said I needed a break.

Luckily, my school was extremely understanding of my needing to take some time off. I was able to get in touch with my therapist right away and we quickly shifted our work to be more intensely focused on the panic and dealing with past trauma. I spoke for countless hours to my dad about what my body was going through chemically and emotionally and he taught me so much about the mind-body connection. I had a telehealth appointment with a naturopath doctor who gave me so many ideas for herbs and supplements that work with the body to calm your nervous system, naturally. My older brother reached out and shared with me his own struggles with panic and anxiety and what worked for him after years of research. My friends were my biggest cheerleaders and supporters. For the first two weeks I could not be left alone, so every day I would either go to one of their houses or they would come to me and just hang out with me so I did not have to be alone. It was such an amazing experience to feel so much love from these women who have become like my own family. I have learned about things that trigger my anxiety and ways I was not nourishing my body or mind and am working towards making changes to improve my overall health. I spent over a year trying to figure out what my stomach issues were from- even after a colonoscopy and endoscopy and the doctors found nothing, I am now convinced it’s all related to my emotional state. The state of my mind/ body connection was completely tethered and I needed a way to revamp my entire system.

Another thing my dad has taught me throughout this process is that we shouldn’t be calling it mental health anymore- it’s just HEALTH. Our overall health is so connected to the way our minds work, so why do we use this derogatory labeling of “mental” health when really, it’s about our overall wellbeing. There is still so much stigma attached to “mental health” awareness and after going through this I truly understand that having panic attacks or anxiety should not be looked at any differently than having asthma or diabetes. They are all health conditions that impact our bodies and require intervention and often medications to heal. I know that going through this was necessary for me. I know I needed to slow down and start recognizing that things in my life have been hard and it’s ok to stop and ask for help. It’s ok to stop trying to be perfect all the time because sooner or later, the body can only take on so much. At 43 years old I am finally starting to take care of myself after taking care of two kids for 12 years. I am learning that the way we treat our bodies nourishes our mind and vice versa and that connection is so important for overall well-being. I went off social media for the last month because going on it made me anxious- the comparisons, the perfect pictures and houses, and trips and everything just seemed like too much for me to handle. I also did not feel motivated to post about my own life, especially while feeling so shitty. I want to use social media as a creative outlet and I love writing here, on my blog, but I have not decided what path I want to take with my online presence yet or if I even continue. For now, I need to focus on myself and make sure she is ok!

I would love to open up the dialogue more about anxiety and dealing with the daily pressures of being moms and working and having to do it all. I hope this space can become a place where I can connect more with other people who have experienced similar situations and build a community from it. Please comment below with any feedback or experiences you feel comfortable sharing. I can’t wait to hear from you!