I Want You To Know That I Have Panic Attacks

I didn't want to tell anyone about my panic attacks for a long time.

I still remember the embarrassment I felt after I had my first attack. I had it one night while watching The Office with my then-boyfriend-now-husband.

Those are two of my favorite things on this planet. That's how I knew what was happening to me was real.

I didn't have words for what was happening to me the first time it happened.

I remember we were watching an episode where Nellie was a big focus, and she was being extremely awkward borderline unfunny and uncomfortable, as Nellie usually does. I get pretty extreme second-hand embarrassment when I watch tv shows or movies where characters are being dumb, so I thought that was all I was feeling.

But then the scene changed and Nellie was actually being kind of funny and the episode was ending on a high note. But I still felt some kind of strong weird.

I remember hardly being able to focus on the next episode, I was so wrapped up in this feeling. I tried to shrug it off first as the second-hand embarrassment, but when that didn't work, I tried to rationalize it somehow, saying it had been a long day, long week, I had been really stressed at work that day, maybe I was annoyed at Robert for some stupid reason.

I think I went through everything in my life in the span of two minutes trying to put the blame on something for this feeling.

But that just made it worse.

Not being able to identify the feeling just made the feeling explode. I was so wrapped up in identifying what I was feeling that at first I didn't notice that my breathing had started to increase.

I remember Robert pausing the show, I remember his voice, not the words he said, because truly it sounded like he was the teacher from Charlie Brown. I remember trying to find a position where I could regain control of my body, because I realized frantically that I had lost all control of myself.

I remember wondering if I was dying.

That feeling of wondering if I was dying is a feeling I've felt a lot since that night.

Because I couldn't put it to words, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what these "episodes" were. I researched a lot, watched a lot of videos, and talked to Robert about it.

No one else, though. I was far too embarrassed.

After I'd had probably 7 or 8 of these attacks, after hurting myself from falling over during an attack, after having 20 to 30 minute times where I thought over and over that I was dying, I finally mustered the courage to talk to my doctor.

Let me assure you, this was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life.

I have established a really good relationship with my doctor. She's patient, amazing at her job, willing to try different things, one of the best listeners, and it helps that she's also a Christian.

But I was still so nervous.

The day I went in, I went under the pretense of a physical. I was shaking a little as I sat in the chair next to her and described what had been happening to me.

I told her about how I couldn't catch my breath during what I started calling An Attack, I sometimes felt like I was literally being crushed under the weight of some unknown force, I would cry uncontrollably, I would lash out at people around me with an anger that scared me, I would lose all control of my body to the point of falling over if I tried to stand or being unable to stop my hands from jerking and writhing.

I took a deep breath, tried to stop the tears from spilling over, and told her I felt like I was going to die every time it happened.

After that visit, after having my doctor confirm that I was experiencing an extreme form of panic or anxiety attack, I went on my first medication.

The first thing I tried was Xanax. And I hated it from the beginning. It did its job, I had less attacks, but that was because I constantly felt apathy. I felt like I was in a fog of emotions, and couldn't maintain a real mood or feeling. I despised it.

The second thing I tried was Diazepam, which is a form of Valium. It worked in that if I took it at the beginning of an attack, it usually kept my attack right under 15 minutes. It was a god-awful 15 minutes, but it was better than 30 minutes. So I still take Diazepam from time to time.

The third thing I tried was no medication. I tried yoga, I tried guided meditation, I tried different diets, I tried breathing exercises, I tried massages, I tried about every relaxation method in the books. All of it would make me feel great for a few hours, but the attacks still came.

The fourth thing I tried was ASMR. For those unfamiliar with this, it's videos that focus on sounds and visual aids for relaxation. Some people report getting what's referred to as Tingles when they hear certain sounds; I really just feel relaxed and safe. The most common sound is tapping, specifically fingertip or fingernail tapping on various objects. Other common ones that I've found work great for me are hand motion sounds, brushing hair sounds, crinkle sounds, and scalp massage sounds. ASMR doesn't stop an attack for me, but it can calm me down if I catch it quick enough, and it can just generally keep me relaxed during the evening / night when I'm most prone to attacks.

The fifth thing I tried was Buspirone, which is what I'm currently taking. Buspirone targets anxiety specifically, and doesn't have all of the mood side effects I felt while on Xanax. It doesn't keep me from having attacks completely, but if I take it regularly (twice a day), along with relaxation techniques and watching my diet and swimming regularly, it definitely helps.

So why am I writing all this down now? A couple of reasons.

I've been having attacks now for over a year and a half. I've had to come to terms with it and learn that it's something that happens to my body and my mind, not something that I've wished on myself. It's something that is scary, absolutely, but nothing to be ashamed about. I don't have to talk about it constantly, I don't have to talk about it at all if I don't want to, but I can't just wish it away. It's real and a part of my life. So I embrace it just like I try to embrace everything else about me.

I've also come to realize that maybe shedding some light on my struggles with this can help other people. I've been through a lot of medications and tips and tricks over the past year and a half, and while I've found what works specifically for me, maybe by talking about it more, I can offer some advice to others who might be at the beginning stages. I had my loving husband, my family (when I finally started talking about it), and my doctor to help, but what really helped me was research; hearing how other people who had attacks dealt with it. While I don't actually know anyone personally who has attacks, or at least not severe attacks like me, I did find solace and comfort in reading about people who did. Maybe I can be that for other people.

Lastly, I've realized over the past few months that while I can take medication to help and while I can be stricter on my diet and do relaxation techniques to keep me calm, I will still now and maybe forever have these attacks, or at least some form of severe anxiety. I need the people I have surrounded myself with to at least know if not understand what is happening to me in case I ever have an attack around them.

Robert is basically used to them by now. He knows a lot of the signs to look for, he knows to force me to take my Diazepam when I'm in the throws of an attack, he's learned how to cope with his wife having these. But so far, none of my friends or other family have been around for an attack.

However, a few months ago, I had an attack at the wedding of two dear friends. Sometimes there is no reason or rhyme to when and why I have an attack, I just do. And it took me having an attack in public like this to learn both how to deal with having an attack in public, and that I should probably let those closest to me know what is up.

Side note, I have now had three or four attacks in public, so I've learned to just break away when I feel an attack coming on. I don't think anyone at the wedding even knew I had an attack, thank goodness. I've had an attack in church and two at work, and always am able to get away before I cause a scene. So my saying I want people in my life to know doesn't mean I expect them to be an expert or even be present during my attack; I mostly just want people to know so if I start acting weird around you all of the sudden and excuse myself for about 15-20 minutes, you know why.

I don't want to downplay or dramaticize in any way what I'm doing through. It's scary, it's real, and it does still make me wonder if I'm going to die during an attack. But it's not my whole life or being, and it's not something I need to talk about all the time. The same goes for anyone who struggles with anxiety, attacks, or anything similar.

It's just a part of me that I want you to know about.

So now you know.

An Evening With Scout Finch

Two weeks ago, I got to meet one of my heroes. 

I spent an evening with Mary Badham. 

She's probably not every little girl's hero like she was mine. But I so vividly remember seeing her on screen being Scout Finch and just knowing that I wanted to be her best friend. 

It took a few years, but eventually I realized I wanted to be both Mary and Scout's best friend. 

To Kill A Mockingbird is probably a strange favorite movie for a 12 year old, but I was a pretty strange 12 year old, so I guess it kind of made sense. It was my favorite movie for a lot of reasons, but one big reason is because To Kill A Mockingbird was also my favorite book, and the movie was the first book adaptation I'd ever seen that so perfectly embodied the book. 

To Kill A Mockingbird did a lot of things for 12 year old Meagan, and I could write an entire blog just about all the lessons and all the ways I grew up from reading and watching it. 

But let me tell you now about a dream I had fulfilled that I never even knew was an option. 

I was sitting in Chili's when I first got the email from my sister about Mary Badham coming to town. 

I about lost my mind when I read the email. 

I was immediately transported back to my 12 year old self, sitting in the living room of our Fayetteville house, watching Mary be Scout for the hundredth time. It's always been a desire to meet her, but I never lingered on that desire long, because how would I ever get the chance to meet her? That always just seemed so impossible. 

But here it was, she was coming to my town, of all places. 

The day of the event, I could barely concentrate on my work. I was overcome with both excitement and nerves. Scout was so close to me, so important in my life, I was terrified to meet the woman who brought her to life. I was terrified that Mary would be so vastly different from Scout that this Scout idea that had meant so much to be growing up would somehow be shattered. 

I was stupid to worry about this. 

Mary Badham is and always will be Scout. She is Scout. She just is. 

For an hour and a half, we sat in very uncomfortable bleachers in a high school gym and listened to this wonderful lady talk about life. 

She talked for about 30 minutes about being Scout and about her life, and then opened the floor for questions. The questions lead to all kinds of fun and intriguing stories about filming, but also just about life - Mrs Bedham's life, her passions, her thoughts, her hopes for a better world. 

She told a hilarious story about Jem and the director pranking each other with water, ranging from water guns to full on buckets being poured on each other. She talked about how the rabid dog scene was filmed - with peanut butter and shaving cream to make the dog act nuts and then some kind of special horse shoe thing that made him fall over - and how she as a kid was so afraid they had really shot the dog. 

She talked considerably about race, about how she had to leave Birmingham when she was 14 because her parents told her she couldn't befriend the black grocery boy and how she saw just how broken her town and her family were through that, about how she moved to Arizona to a boarding school. 

She talked about adopting a child from India with her husband and how that has been extremely hard at times because of the racism directed at them because of it. 

She talked about how her favorite scene in the movie is Scout reading to Atticus because she always wanted her father to read to her, but he never did. But how her husband would read to her belly when she was pregnant and how their daughter came out of the womb knowing his voice. 

She talked about her friendship with Gregory Peck and Tom Robinson, about going to their houses and sitting on the floor as a 10 year old and just listening to the parties and marveling at all the musicians and famous guests who were there. 

She talked about her faith, about her passion for education, about her desire for all students to get to travel and see that there are other cultures and how other people live. 

I'm sure she talked about so much more, but those were the highlights for me. 

It was fascinating listening to her talk, how she told stories and communicated her feelings and ideas with such ease. She talked like there were 5 of us just sitting in her living room drinking iced tea. 

She was Scout, grown up. I think Harper Lee would agree. 

Listening to her talk about life, about how we as a community of a country ought to live, was inspiring. She didn't talk with rousing speeches or high-pitched zeal, she just shared her heart in an intimate, honest, pure way. 

She left me inspired and brimming with hope. 

After the event, we were all set to leave, but Robert told me I would always regret it if I didn't go meet her. So we got in line to see her. 

When it was my turn, I put out my shaky hand and said, "I really just wanted to shake your hand, Mrs Badham. It was a true honor being here with you tonight." 

She kept eye contact with me the whole time and didn't let my hand go, just sweetly held onto it the whole time. Then she said, "You are so sweet. Thank you so much for coming tonight." And she said it like she really truly meant it, not like it was just robotic to say it. 

I asked her if Robert could take our picture, so she stood up and came around the table to me. I stood awkwardly next to her, so she got closer and put her arm around me and whispered, "Is this okay?" I think she knew I was nervous, so I laughed a little and said, "It's great!" Before the picture was taken, she rubbed my back a little, I think to let me know I didn't need to be nervous. 

After the picture, she rubbed my back once more and said, "Thank you again, dear, for being here." 

I told her how wonderful it was to meet her, and we left. 

A short interaction, probably less than 2 minutes total, but such a sweet 2 minutes that I'll never forget. 

Her humanness is what I'll always remember the most. She talked about love, about being kind to everyone, about connecting with people. She was so sincere and so genuine, both in our short interaction and on stage, you couldn't help but fall in love with her instantly. She has a fire and a feisty side, and she doesn't seem afraid of anything. 

I want to be Mary Badham when I grow up.