Panic attacks.
I get them when I’m triggered.
I get them at 3 am in the morning.
I get them at 5 am in the morning.
I get them when I have to wake up to start my day.
I get them after reading an email.
They scare me and they demoralize me. They bring me to my knees.
My panic attacks can feel like a thousand chaotic voices.
This isn’t good.
That isn’t done.
You aren’t good enough.
What a failure.
When they start, I end up with waves of fear from my futile attempts to ward off the attacks.
I try silencing the voices.
I recoil in terror from all their accusations and predictions of doom and gloom.
My brain vibrates from the yelling and the shrinking, the pointing and the defending.
* * * * *
I’m learning to thank them, yes, appreciate their intention to protect me from — well — danger.
Danger from harm to the core of who I am.
Somehow, I ended up with a blinding fear of criticism about my judgment and decision-making abilities.
I have had to change my attitude of fear of criticism about my past unchangeable decisions.
* * * * *
Now I try to to tell myself:
- I accept the past
- I did the best that I could with what I had
- There are consequences to all decisions
- The only thing I can do is think about moving forward
- My new decisions might still not be ideal
- In the future I will be dealing with the consequences of my choices today
- A knee-jerk reaction will be counterproductive
- What’s the one baby step I can take right now that at least moves me in the right direction?
Okay panic attacks.
I’m ready for you.
I’m ready to listen to your warnings.
But I’m going to respond in a calm way to let you know that I can only do my best, that I did my best in the past, and that hounding me about what a terrible person I am is not going to make my life better. It’s making my present and future worse.
But I thank you for trying to protect me.
I thank you for trying to teach me.
So — now that I’ve heard you, I need you to be quiet so that I can figure out what next step to take.
Sherry Yuan Hunter 