There are Nights

There are nights when I sleep on a cloud of tranquility. But then are nights I toss and turn on a bed of anxious nails. Fear is the primal root that has kept us alive since before we could walk on two legs. For me right now that primal root center’s on my breathing. It seems lately that once I lay down, especially at night, I find it difficult to breath. And yes, given my medical history that may seem like a reasonable diagnosis. But after medical examination the root cause always points back to health anxiety.  

Living with Panic Disorder is no walk in the park. It has affected my life and the life of my family since 1999. It has caused me to lose jobs, isolate myself, and cause my family to suffer. Thinking back to when panic first weighed on me I was in total paralysis. I couldn’t get out of bed, all I would hear at night were voices of doom and dread, and I carried such guilt for not providing for my family or myself. It took a good two years before I could get back to being reasonably functional. But even then the price I paid for that functionality was high.
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Laying here in the middle of the night isn’t anything new to me. But the comfort I get from jotting down my confession is a welcomed relief. Knowing what the problem is isn’t worth a pound of cure unless you put in the effort to fix it. Who knows what I’m trying to say other than. We can complain and moan all we want about our given situation. Still it takes some effort on our part to get help. Fear is a heavy burden to bare. But don’t believe for a second you have to do it alone.