Thursday, August 21, 2008

Day 10 on Lexapro.

written 1 day later.

“why are you so mean to me/

gee, honey, it seems to me/

you love to see me cryin’”

Following a day that seemed to offer a reprieve from the constant panic and pain, I once again woke with the same disturbing thoughts piercing my mind. In the muddy moments between sleeping and awake, my heart felt like it was being clenched in my chest. The physical pain was almost too much. I kept my eyes squeezed shut, trying to push away the dancing demons that taunted my senses. I was so tired of them. Physically and mentally and emotionally. So very, very tired.

Push them away. Push them away. Push them away. What was it going to take to keep them gone for good?

I knew that time was the only answer. I would have to get to the point to where my mind and body were both physically stable enough to handle the small upsets of everyday. I knew I would have to wait for the med to kick in fully…to reach the point where I wasn’t so tired anymore. And that would just take time.

Despite the initial upset of the morning, this was the first day I did not feel extremely sick to my stomach before I left for work.

And so I just left…a small victory under my belt.

At work, though, my mind wandered just enough to let the bad thoughts slip in once more. Once their foothold was secure, they pummeled me until I was blinded with upset and horror. A panic attack set in that, on its own, seemed more terrifying and severe than the previous seven days of constant anxiety combined.

My mind became muddy. My eyes were clouded. I could barely think. My heart felt like it was being stabbed by an ice pick…over and over and over again. The urge to throw up was overwhelming. I was literally seized by an unknown force and could not break free.

And for two hours, I stayed this way. I numbly managed to continue to work…until, little by little, the panic fell away…and when it fell away, I was more clear than I had been since before all of this began. And I was amazed. And grateful. And relieved.

That night, when E. Liz came to visit and we went to dinner, she told me that the difference she saw in me was remarkable.

It always feels nice to hear someone else say they see a difference in you, as it is not always easy to see it yourself. At least not for me.

But, when I sat alone that night, I knew the difference was apparent. Something inside of me had died. Something bad and foolish and wrong. Something that had eaten away at me like a parasite for too long…had perished. Only wafts of its ghost now remains.

In its place, another something arose. Something good…something that I needed much more. And the next morning, when I woke up, that something good was the first thought to greet me…and it was such a wonderful, wonderful change.