Dream a Little Dream of Me

My last Galaxy Brain assignment was to interpret the meaning of a particular dream, which I did "in character", by way of pointing out how boring the dreams of others are, then making my answer all about me and a scary dream I used to have growing up.

😀

I also mentioned a dream study course a relative took. She told me our dreams are all about ourselves, our subconscious revealing itself in weird and wonderful ways through our dreams.

Since then, though, I've had a couple of therapy sessions to go with the medication I'm on as a result of the panic attacks I started experiencing last spring. She's young, young enough to be my daughter, so it's different than I'd imagined it would be, but what had I imagined?

Magic.

Well it's not magic, it's a process, and she's trained in it, has the skills required to help someone else make the necessary connections between brain, body, thinking, behaviour to calm an over-active flight or fight response. Oh, and freezing. We never mention freezing but it's another reaction to anxiety.

It's all very helpful, even hearing myself tell a familiar tale I remember lost details or recognize overlooked significance. Maybe a pattern. I even learned of a possible approach to the panic attacks called "radical acceptance", which just knowing is a possibility has lowered my anxiety about the next panic attack.

Typing that just reminded me of The Greatest Generation (although surely not as parents) threatening crying children with "Stop that crying before I give you something to cry about!"

Panic attacks sure gave me something to be anxious about.

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I found out, too, I'm not alone in needing help after the Freedom Convoy attack on downtown Ottawa last February. It's apparently quite common. I should have known. Three of my panic attacks occurred after encountering people who continue to support it. But here radical acceptance comes into play, doesn't it. There will always be people who do. Accept it. Move on.

Get off Twitter. It won't get you published and it's just another addiction. Either do the work of shopping your book around or don't but stop with the magical thinking. Lots of people write books. The reward is in the writing. Getting published is the work.

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Meanwhile, write another one. Find the humour in trading time and effort to make money. The stuff of life some of us find rewarding and some of us don't. At all. Except without doing it, without having done it, what would I have to write about that others can appreciate as a break from being who we're paid to be and not who we are.

My dreams?

😀

The other night I had a dream my mother got better. I went home to visit her and found she'd left the nursing home and was back in our house, healthy, younger looking. Smiling. Happy to see me but a little confused by my concern.

"I quit drinking" she laughed. "That's all it was."

Then I asked her where all her friends were.

"I haven't told them."

Well I told her they'd like to know and she should tell them because they'd been very worried about her. So she did. Then they all showed up, filling the house, and it was a party. Her best friend was there and suggested I move back home, I could drive everybody around because nobody had their licence anymore. They'd pay me to do it. I'd have a job. Then I saw my mother walking up the street with an empty glass. She said she was going for some water. I wasn't sure I believed her but she seemed so happy and confident. I wanted to make sure it all lasted so I decided, yes, I should move back home and look after her. Not even should, I wanted to. Start over at the beginning but all grown up, find fulfillment in keeping this irresponsible mother of mine on the straight and narrow.

😀

Aftershocks

 I had another panic attack yesterday evening. I think I felt it building over the course of the day but I'm not sure. By 7:30 pm though I knew it was happening so I propped myself up in bed, a cold cloth on my forehead, tried to concentrate on my breathing.

The nausea was fairly intense, coming in waves, but I felt less alienated than during other panic attacks. I wanted to lie on the bathroom floor at one point (the attacks are very tiring) and did, briefly, but decided that was falling into back into an earlier pattern, and made myself go back to bed.

Also, while lying on the bathroom floor starting to wish for the crabby hand of death to slap me off this mortal coil, I kicked my rational brain into gear, "you're not going to die of a panic attack, get a grip, let it play out, you will feel better".

My mantra for next time: This too shall pass.

My blond companion lied with me in bed, holding my hand. This too was an improvement on previous attacks when I didn't want anybody around, couldn't (wouldn't?) allow myself to be comforted.

Suffering should be borne in private? Me? Who is this person having panic attacks?

But I get anxious if I think I'm inconveniencing someone, no matter how willing they are to help. It's ironic because my neighbour, of whom I make much fun, won't be beholden to anyone no matter how much he needs the help.

(Just to be mean I make him meat pies he can't resist accepting, even gracing me once with, "it was good".)

Eventually, pill averse me said yes to a couple of gravol. Gravol hasn't been enough in the past, but I figured it was worth a try again, even though I was worried about interactions with the daily medication I've been taking, fluoxetine. I need two gravol (at least) and tried to have faith they would work.

Well of course they did and next time I'll take the gravol as soon as I start feeling nauseous.

After a while of counting breaths, I fell asleep, which I guess is the effect of the gravol.

I always have to get up in the night to pee and when I did I noticed I wasn't nauseous anymore. I also suddenly remembered as a kid having had the stomach flu and being so afraid afterward of being nauseous that my mother took me to Dr. Tiltons (an Estonian who escaped when the Soviets invaded, landing in the Sault and with an accent so strong we often had no idea what the diagnosis was). She prescribed some sort of peppermint concoction, and I insisted on taking a spoonful of it every night before bed.

But here's something, it's the anniversary of the Freedom Convoy attack on us in Ottawa last year and yesterday I'd posted on Facebook about having to avoid seeing or hearing Pierre Poilievre, which is getting harder with the House back. I was listening to CBC radio and all of a sudden there was his whiny drone assaulting my ears. In my post I joked about him making me nauseous, which I'd forgotten about until my blond companion reminded me of it this morning.

Surely hearing Pierre Poilievre's voice on the radio (I mute CBC news on television if he's in a clip from the House or elsewhere) didn't spark a panic attack a couple of hours later, but I suppose it's possible. In any case, he's not going away so I'm going to have to figure out how to avoid being exposed to him.

(I just remembered that episode of Seinfeld where Mary Hart's voice sets off seizures? in Kramer.)

(Also, today I read an interview with Erin O'Toole in which he complained about Conservative MPs having gone down internet rabbit holes, and I wondered why then he'd wanted to lead them to power.)

Anyway, I think today will be my last day (re)posting Freedom Convoy memories as they pop up on Facebook. I tend to think it's my duty to bear witness but I did it already and belabouring it isn't healthy. Time to trust in the process and let it go.

Maybe time to ditch a habit or two and establish some new routines, too. If I'm going to have panic attacks I want to at least learn from them. In the meantime, I wrote out a list of tips for dealing with anxiety, although not necessarily panic attacks, that I'll share here.

1.    2 inhales, 1 long exhale (I like this one because I have to think about it to do it).

2.    Focus on right now, the lack of need for action, and bring your attention to breathing.

3.    Exercise, preferably fresh air exercise, move your body (not possible in a panic attack for me).

4.    Eat good food (I include my baking in this now I'm on medication because I only want a small portion).

5.    Prioritize sleep (I sleep better and more than I used to because as soon as I'm even a bit tired I go to bed).

6.    Overcome catastrophizing and keep perspective (well, good luck - #7 helps with this).

7.    Make peace with the worst case scenario (this one has been good for me and came in handy last night).

8.    Use the anxiety decision tree: What's making you anxious? Can you do something about it? If so, do it. If no, distract yourself by doing something else productive. (this is a tricky one, at least, I find it hard, partly because not being pro-active enough is partly why I'm anxious, sort of a chicken/egg thing.)

If anybody has any other tips let me know.

Also, I don't think the panic attacks are menopause related, but they could be.