My world, my life circles around me keeping the status que for my wife, son, and myself. Since 1987 most of my waking moments has been focused on protecting my family and making sure their every need is attended too. For many years I didn’t have much time for hobbies or other pursuits, my life was dedicated to the security of my family. With a special needs spouse and son, along with three other healthy “normal” children the stress of basically being a single parent was/is great. But I don’t think of myself as having any more pressure put on me than any other caregiving adult. That is till my first mental breakdown.
In 1999 I experienced my first full blown panic attack at work at Reidsville State Prison. It was so bad that they took me to the infirmary to be checked out. Once I was cleared, I was sent home so I could get checked out by my personal doctor. At the time the local physician found no problems other than my obesity, diabetic, and blood pressure issues. So all they suggested was breathing into a brown paper bag to help with my hyperventilating. As the days went by I found myself having more and more panic and anxiety attacks, especially every time I went outside. The problem got so bad that I eventually made the decision to quit my job with the prison system. Thinking that maybe that was the cause of the problem.
Instead my panic attacks got even worse, effecting my ability to even drive to the store. My life became pure torture. With the voices screaming in my head what a worthless human being I had become. After several weeks of this endless torment I finally was able to get the clinic to prescribed me Xanax and Paxil. That helped some, but I still stayed in the bed most of the day. It finally got to the point that I gave custody of my two oldest children to my mother for a number of months so I could focus on getting better. That is when I hit the lowest point of my life. I felt like such a failure, failing my family and myself.
I finally did get an appointment with the regional mental health center. After being evaluated by them. I was diagnosed with panic disorder, chronic depression, obsessive compulsive disorder, and agoraphobia. First I was pulled off cold turkey from the Xanax (which was a treat) and left with the Paxil and given Buspar. For the next several years the dosages of both medications had been tweaked with, along with weekly personal individual and group therapy. It’s funny how that recently there has been a renewed focus on mental health. When back than in the early 2000’s there was nothing but budget cuts. Now it looks like more of the same now.
After a while of being able to go back to work and regain custody of my kids. I rather foolishly pulled myself off Paxil due to the side effects and the fact that I was feeling better. But just as quickly as it came all the old symptoms began reappearing. But I came back to my senses and at once I went back to the mental health center. This time I was taken in by a semi-retired Psychiatrists I lovingly named “Dr Jellybean”. After several months of tweaking and one-on-one therapy I was functioning well through mindfulness training and new medication.
Since then I still practice Zen Buddhist mindfulness training and still receive my doses of SSRI medication. While I still suffered from some bouts of depression, anxiety, and panic. It was physical stress that got the better of me, damn near taking my life ten years ago through Chronic Heart Failure. So far I’ve beaten the odds and lived much longer than I was expected. I give all the credit to my own fear of death and the need of my family in those early years. Recently it has been the epiphany of no birth, no death that has kept me going. For those of you facing the string of mental and/or physical health issues. There’s no need to give up. Find a place to put your determination to survive, don’t let these voices of fear go unanswered. Give them a voice, listen to your gut, and seek wise counsel. Each step I may have taken may not have been the perfect one. But it was a step all the same.
In 1999 I experienced my first full blown panic attack at work at Reidsville State Prison. It was so bad that they took me to the infirmary to be checked out. Once I was cleared, I was sent home so I could get checked out by my personal doctor. At the time the local physician found no problems other than my obesity, diabetic, and blood pressure issues. So all they suggested was breathing into a brown paper bag to help with my hyperventilating. As the days went by I found myself having more and more panic and anxiety attacks, especially every time I went outside. The problem got so bad that I eventually made the decision to quit my job with the prison system. Thinking that maybe that was the cause of the problem.
Instead my panic attacks got even worse, effecting my ability to even drive to the store. My life became pure torture. With the voices screaming in my head what a worthless human being I had become. After several weeks of this endless torment I finally was able to get the clinic to prescribed me Xanax and Paxil. That helped some, but I still stayed in the bed most of the day. It finally got to the point that I gave custody of my two oldest children to my mother for a number of months so I could focus on getting better. That is when I hit the lowest point of my life. I felt like such a failure, failing my family and myself.
I finally did get an appointment with the regional mental health center. After being evaluated by them. I was diagnosed with panic disorder, chronic depression, obsessive compulsive disorder, and agoraphobia. First I was pulled off cold turkey from the Xanax (which was a treat) and left with the Paxil and given Buspar. For the next several years the dosages of both medications had been tweaked with, along with weekly personal individual and group therapy. It’s funny how that recently there has been a renewed focus on mental health. When back than in the early 2000’s there was nothing but budget cuts. Now it looks like more of the same now.
After a while of being able to go back to work and regain custody of my kids. I rather foolishly pulled myself off Paxil due to the side effects and the fact that I was feeling better. But just as quickly as it came all the old symptoms began reappearing. But I came back to my senses and at once I went back to the mental health center. This time I was taken in by a semi-retired Psychiatrists I lovingly named “Dr Jellybean”. After several months of tweaking and one-on-one therapy I was functioning well through mindfulness training and new medication.
Since then I still practice Zen Buddhist mindfulness training and still receive my doses of SSRI medication. While I still suffered from some bouts of depression, anxiety, and panic. It was physical stress that got the better of me, damn near taking my life ten years ago through Chronic Heart Failure. So far I’ve beaten the odds and lived much longer than I was expected. I give all the credit to my own fear of death and the need of my family in those early years. Recently it has been the epiphany of no birth, no death that has kept me going. For those of you facing the string of mental and/or physical health issues. There’s no need to give up. Find a place to put your determination to survive, don’t let these voices of fear go unanswered. Give them a voice, listen to your gut, and seek wise counsel. Each step I may have taken may not have been the perfect one. But it was a step all the same.
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