66 lines
3.8 KiB
Markdown
66 lines
3.8 KiB
Markdown
---
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type: post
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title: Anxiety - Follow-up
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slug: anxiety-follow-up
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date: 2013-09-22
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---
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The last few days have, honestly, been a bit of a rush, in terms of just how
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real I feel, compared to the last few weeks, minus this afternoon. I never do
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well with shopping on the weekends. I love shopping, really, and I also love
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weekends, but these clots of people studiously ignoring each other exert a
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pressure on me that is not within my power to ignore.
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This continued on throughout the day, but given not only the medication I've
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been on of late, but also the amount of attention I have been paying to myself
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in this realm, I've been able to, if not totally control, though there was some
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of that, at least play a spectator to the mechanisms and action of my anxiety as
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it unfolds.
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Everything moves in waves, and I like to think that this is because my body is
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responding to a concentration by releasing a response. The response comes on in
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a wave, lasting perhaps five to ten minutes, before the effect starts to fade,
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but the anxiety remains, and so another wave is released. This has been a
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consistent experience over the last few months, but I've noticed that, during an
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actual panic attack, the sensation disappears, to be replaced by unrelenting
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levels of whatever-it-is involved in the process.
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I think that the waves have been interesting and notable of late because that's
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when I, at the beginning, felt as though I were coming to some grand realization
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that there was some sinister plan driving the people and things around me. Of
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late, however, this has been a slow ramp up when I am able to brace myself for a
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sense of "Now I am starting to believe the things I worry about," and that is
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far less terrifying than "Oh my God these things are really true!"
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The same has been the case for the auditory aberrations for the last few weeks.
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So absurd is it to hear someone say, as though they were simply notifying you of
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which platform the train would be arriving at, that it is now time for you to
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hang yourself. As I mentioned, the aberrations also included various mocking
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narrations as to what I was doing or thinking at the time, the most memorable
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being, "Makyo the irrelevant fox," which...I don't know. Way to go on
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incorporating aspects of my life within furry, I guess? And so I turned one of
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these mocking mantras into a response, and those who follow me on Twitter or
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know me in person know my fondness for the phrase 'get fucked' of late.
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Even so, this is the type of thing that I feel rolling up against me, past me,
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and then through me and on to wherever it is that anxiety goes. Today, after
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that ridiculous shopping trip, I felt anxiety dogging at my heels until dinner
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time, and it was then that I had a moment to pause, let go, and study the
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feeling of the slight delusion involved in the rush, as well as the welling up
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of other people's voices.
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It was intriguing, but, perhaps due to the meds, something I could watch from a
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distance, so long as I put in the effort. I can feel just why the last few
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weeks were as scary as they were, but I was able to take a step back, and also
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able to search back through the events of the day and feel just why it started,
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and what it felt like when it did: a shrinking and bracing, a preparing, a sense
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of "I had better watch out." Before that, at some point, I expect that I will
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find similar roots to a raise in levels of anxiety that I'd felt before. Not
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similar enough to catch in the filters that I had set up, but close.
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I am not happy about being prescribed benzos again, but I think the last few
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days have shown their utility, and I will use them with as much caution as I
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can, until I can figure out how the fluoxetine figures in. Either way, I'll
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take it, and I'll be sure to keep on myself for finding a way to buttress myself
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against this (ridiculous, stupid, nonsensical) onslaught.
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