My husband has a panic disorder.
If he thinks about the 'what if' for too long, it spirals into a panic attack and he can't turn it off.
Living with someone who has anxiety is challenging.
I can usually tell if he is in the middle of a panic attack because he is quiet. If he isn't talking or doing anything, then he is probably freaking out about something. I don't always know what to do to make him feel better.
I don't think I've ever had a panic attack. But I have my own little anxiety monster. I'm not really sure where it comes from, but I've had it since I was a kid.
Every time we would travel, I would get sick the night before. I would have to sleep on the couch or with a bowl beside me (in case I needed to puke and couldn't make it to the bathroom). I don't remember any of that, but I have a photo from the morning we were going on a big road trip all the way to Oregon to visit my grandparents, and there I am, on the couch in my nightgown, looking pitiful. I know I hadn't eaten anything bad or been exposed to anyone else who was sick, it had to have been from my anxiety.
In college, before I would travel, I would get a rash on my arms and hands. I tried to pass it off as dry skin or something like that, but I had never experienced anything like that before, and I got the same rash before I went to Italy, Sweden, and Australia so I know that I hadn't changed detergents or been exposed to anything weird. It had to have been from my anxiety.
The night before my wedding, my husband's mom stayed in my room (we got married at a resort in Jamaica), and just like when I was a kid, I got sick in the middle of the night. I was sleeping soundly, feeling fine, and then all of a sudden, I had to race to a receptacle so that I could vomit. (Talk about embarrassing). I know it had to have been from my anxiety.
Now, I don't get a rash and I don't get sick, but I have obsessive thoughts. I worry about logistics. I worry about what to pack. I obsess over the minute details of the itinerary. To calm my worries, I write lists, and practice packing my suitcase in advance to make sure I won't forget anything.
I think my husband senses my anxiety because I start to ask questions and think of things no one else would ever consider, weeks before we go anywhere.
This is my 'slice of life' blog.
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This Little Class of Mine
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