Menopause and anxiety
All I can think of to say right now is. . . .WOW. Well, that's not entirely true, as I can think of plenty more to say about my state of mind and body. All the old jokes about menopause and the hush-hush about it - whispering in the kitchen when I was a kid. Now its happening to me. And it ain't funny by any stretch of the imagination. That's the understatement of the year, by the way! I always somehow thought I'd breeze through it, and it was just another minor obstacle in life that was lurking in the back of my mind - not worth more than a passing thought. I was wrong, so very wrong about my ability to be stalwart and strong. As they say, old age is not for the faint of heart, especially for women.
My anxiety started coming on about eleven years ago when my heart palpitations were especially bad. They had come and gone for many years, with often months or years in between of no symptoms. To make a long story short, I finally got a diagnosis from a cardiologist after over 25 years of not knowing what was wrong with me. Mitral Valve Prolapse, a common condtiion, and usually not dangerous, according to the doctor. Yeah. . . easy for him to say! When you can hardly breathe, and your heart is irregular every other beat, and you end up in the ER because it won't go back to a regular rhythm - now THAT'S scary! At least to me it is. Terrifying, paralyzing. . . I wake up in the middle of the night with my heart pounding in my ears so loud that it sounds like a drum. It does all kinds of gymnastics that someone who has never experienced it could never even imagine. I think that at any moment its going to become hopelessly irregular and then stop. . . and I'll be dead. Just like that. I become too terrified to even move. Of course, that sets off a panic attack, so everything becomes even more intense. The walls start closing in on me. I wonder if I'm not going crazy and will have to be institutionalized. Of course, it always comes to an end sooner or later. Maybe a couple of hours later, but eventually. Then, when I look back on it I realize I overreacted. I should just shrug my shoulders and say, "Oh well," and continue on like the mellow, laid back, easy going people that I've known. Oh. . . if only I could be like them!
Anyway, the moment peri-menopause reared its ugly head, my anxiety came back 10-fold. It never really went away, but everything just suddenly ballooned out of control. The migraines are more severe and frequent, sometimes lasting for weeks at a time. I have to pee all the time, it seems. The irritability and moodiness, the insomnia, the nightmares. . . the list goes on and on. But by far the very worst are the anxiety and the fear that my heart will go ballistic again at any moment. The doctor gave me a prescription for Xanax, and I find I have to take it twice a day most of the time. This is so unreal. My periods are still fairly regular most of the time, and each month I hope it will be the last. I won't be sorry to see it go, believe me. After thirty seven years of my monthly "friend," I'm more than ready to say goodbye forever.
My hormones are in an upheaval - I understand that. Its just that the symptoms are going to kill me before anything else does! I wake up with a violent start, imagining I'm seeing things in the dark in my bedroom. I start talking to my husband about nonsense, fully convinced that I'm wide awake. But realizing the next morning that I wasn't awake at all. In its own way, its very disturbing to be convinced you are awake when you are, in fact, very much asleep. Then I feel the electricity start in my chest, and it slowly spreads out my arms and into my hands. Its warm, almost hot. Then my whole body becomes unbearably hot. I throw off the covers and can practically feel steam pouring off me. The tingling stops after a while, and then I start getting extremely cold. Its all normal, they say. The Xanax keeps the frequent nightmares a little less frequent, and thank goodness for that. I am no longer afraid to close my eyes and go to sleep every night.
I am strong, I know that. I know I mentioned something before about doubting my strength, but how could I have had the fortitude to get through what I have without strength? As the waves of panic swell and gather in preparation to crash over my head, I've learned to relax into it and let it do with me as it will. It hasn't been easy. In fact, its been one of the hardest things I've ever had to do in my life. And I've had some other types of trials in life, so I'm not blind to human weakness/strength in any way. Three bad marriages, three divorces, my mother died before I was even 19, my father died violently eleven years later. My first husband was physically abusive. So yes. . . I've experienced the darker side of life, but I've survived. If I'm meant to die in that moment, there is nothing I can do about it anyway, so might as well try to accept what is happening. I dive right in. Nevertheless, the waves throw me head over heels, to the point to where I don't know where the surface is, in order to breathe. Let go - this too shall pass. I have a list of phrases I can say to myself when my panic is at its peak. Its a long, hard, rough road, but in the end I know, as with all difficult times, it will make me stronger.
My anxiety started coming on about eleven years ago when my heart palpitations were especially bad. They had come and gone for many years, with often months or years in between of no symptoms. To make a long story short, I finally got a diagnosis from a cardiologist after over 25 years of not knowing what was wrong with me. Mitral Valve Prolapse, a common condtiion, and usually not dangerous, according to the doctor. Yeah. . . easy for him to say! When you can hardly breathe, and your heart is irregular every other beat, and you end up in the ER because it won't go back to a regular rhythm - now THAT'S scary! At least to me it is. Terrifying, paralyzing. . . I wake up in the middle of the night with my heart pounding in my ears so loud that it sounds like a drum. It does all kinds of gymnastics that someone who has never experienced it could never even imagine. I think that at any moment its going to become hopelessly irregular and then stop. . . and I'll be dead. Just like that. I become too terrified to even move. Of course, that sets off a panic attack, so everything becomes even more intense. The walls start closing in on me. I wonder if I'm not going crazy and will have to be institutionalized. Of course, it always comes to an end sooner or later. Maybe a couple of hours later, but eventually. Then, when I look back on it I realize I overreacted. I should just shrug my shoulders and say, "Oh well," and continue on like the mellow, laid back, easy going people that I've known. Oh. . . if only I could be like them!
Anyway, the moment peri-menopause reared its ugly head, my anxiety came back 10-fold. It never really went away, but everything just suddenly ballooned out of control. The migraines are more severe and frequent, sometimes lasting for weeks at a time. I have to pee all the time, it seems. The irritability and moodiness, the insomnia, the nightmares. . . the list goes on and on. But by far the very worst are the anxiety and the fear that my heart will go ballistic again at any moment. The doctor gave me a prescription for Xanax, and I find I have to take it twice a day most of the time. This is so unreal. My periods are still fairly regular most of the time, and each month I hope it will be the last. I won't be sorry to see it go, believe me. After thirty seven years of my monthly "friend," I'm more than ready to say goodbye forever.
My hormones are in an upheaval - I understand that. Its just that the symptoms are going to kill me before anything else does! I wake up with a violent start, imagining I'm seeing things in the dark in my bedroom. I start talking to my husband about nonsense, fully convinced that I'm wide awake. But realizing the next morning that I wasn't awake at all. In its own way, its very disturbing to be convinced you are awake when you are, in fact, very much asleep. Then I feel the electricity start in my chest, and it slowly spreads out my arms and into my hands. Its warm, almost hot. Then my whole body becomes unbearably hot. I throw off the covers and can practically feel steam pouring off me. The tingling stops after a while, and then I start getting extremely cold. Its all normal, they say. The Xanax keeps the frequent nightmares a little less frequent, and thank goodness for that. I am no longer afraid to close my eyes and go to sleep every night.
I am strong, I know that. I know I mentioned something before about doubting my strength, but how could I have had the fortitude to get through what I have without strength? As the waves of panic swell and gather in preparation to crash over my head, I've learned to relax into it and let it do with me as it will. It hasn't been easy. In fact, its been one of the hardest things I've ever had to do in my life. And I've had some other types of trials in life, so I'm not blind to human weakness/strength in any way. Three bad marriages, three divorces, my mother died before I was even 19, my father died violently eleven years later. My first husband was physically abusive. So yes. . . I've experienced the darker side of life, but I've survived. If I'm meant to die in that moment, there is nothing I can do about it anyway, so might as well try to accept what is happening. I dive right in. Nevertheless, the waves throw me head over heels, to the point to where I don't know where the surface is, in order to breathe. Let go - this too shall pass. I have a list of phrases I can say to myself when my panic is at its peak. Its a long, hard, rough road, but in the end I know, as with all difficult times, it will make me stronger.
posted by seaecho @ 1:40 PM
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