Crisis mode: the details (and ugly pic)

Keeping it very real here.

I went to Zagreb for the weekend with my partner and the entire weekend was a constant battle against the knot in my throat, the nausea I’d start feeling the minute I opened my eyes, the mental confusion and the horrible intrusive thoughts.

The only slight help I’d get was from Xanax 0.25 tabs – but not completely.

I had a massive panic attack while in the airport on our way back to Rome: I started sweating profusely, heart was racing and thoughts were getting all mixed up.

One thought in particular was harassing me: kill yourself. Stop destroying the life of everyone that loves you. Disappear from this planet.

I broke down, sobbing like a baby, and texted my therapist while crying on my partner’s chest desperately. I cried (and I cry) because I don’t want to feel this way.

I want to be a good mother on top of everything. I want my daughter to feel happy, serene and mostly safe in my presence. And so I had been doing until this past week.

What happened during this week that altered my brain so badly?

Only thing that comes to mind is that I’m coming off the old therapy and have started introducing the new one – which, my doc explained, is more effective and has less side effects.

It’s not the same doc I’ve been seeing for the past years. I’m now being helped by CENPIS – a center of excellence where multiple professionals collaborate to support patients.

But meds take time to kick in.. in the meantime, I’m utterly terrified of my feelings and was unable to go to my house.

Too scared of being alone.

Scared something would happen to me and I’d terrify my daughter.

And so I came where I always come when I’m in crisis mode: my parents.

I had promised my daughter I’d cook a nice meal for her tonight and we’d have dinner at home, just the two of us, like we haven’t done in a while due to my anxiety.

Well guess what? I had to let her expectation down.

I need support. I need to feel safe. I need to know my daughter is taken care of if something happens to me.

Final thought: anxiety is very real. Please be patient and ask professionals how you can support a dear one that’s battling a battle like mine.

I’ll keep you posted on when I manage making that nice dinner for my adorable girl. For the time being, we’ll have the grandparents feed us both – although I’m incapable of eating anything.