Just the title sends shivers down my spine.
I’ve suffered from panic attacks my whole entire life. In fact my very first panic attack occurred when I was just three years old. One of Thursday’s Writer’s Workshop question over at Mama Kat’s is: Your first panic attack. However, I blogged about that event last year. Hop on over to read about my Most Vivid Childhood Memory that just happened to also be my first panic attack.
Since I’ve already written about my first panic attack, I thought I’d share the ongoing attack I have right now. It is slowly eating me away. It’s to the point where I am going to the doctor tomorrow to get a medication changed for my anxiety, because I am in constant fear/anxiety.
About a month ago, I had a horrible experience at the triplets house. We had been playing outside in the front yard all day. It was time to clean-up and I watched Nate walk inside the house. Shortly there after the rest of the kids followed inside along with Jaime (who was also over with her girls). Jaime was going to put the kids in the bath while I finished cleaning up the mess of the yard.
This is the point when I lose track of time … I have no idea how much time past. Felt like an eternity, but in acctuality it probably was 10 minutes.
I hear Jaime inside yelling “Nate”. She called for him several times and got no answer. She then comes out and says she can’t find him. I know he is hiding from us. It’s his favorite thing to do. So I go inside to check his favorite hiding places.
I check those places. No Nate.
By this time I can feel my blood curdling and my heart racing.
Jaime and I are running, screaming for Nate, around the house, the backyard, front yard and garage. No Nate.
Again, I have no sense of time, that has passed. Seemed at the time like forever.
Jaime decides to run next door and grab the neighbor to come and help (remember we have 5 other kids to watch). When she comes back (neighborless I might add, because they were gone), we decide to call 911.
The triplets don’t have a house line anymore, so I start scrambling for my cell phone. Can’t find it. Jaime shoves hers into my hand and I shakily dial those three numbers 9-1-1.
Because I called on a cell phone, I was connected to the Sheriff’s office first. Told what happened, the address, what Nate was wearing (which was just a pair of swim trunks) and then transferred me over to our local police department.
About the time the Police Department picked up and the Operator began to explain what was wrong, I hear Jaime scream “I found him!”
Those three words “I FOUND HIM” have never meant so much to me. I believe Jaime shrieked so loudly that even the operator heard her! The operator and policeman confirmed with me that he had been found. I said yes, and thank you so much, and then hung up.
Where was Nate?
Hiding behind a chair IN the house WITH MY CELL PHONE.
Pretty sure I scared the crap out of Nate because by the time he was found I was a mess of emotions. Relieved that he was found and safe, but beyond mad that he had hid from us like that.
Since that incident I am unable to let the kids plan on their own for vry long. They can be in the house and I check on them 3, 4, 5 times. I’m constantly yelling upstairs to confirm where they are. I even have a hard time letting their 9-year-old sister go outside and play with her friends. Something she’s been doing for several years. If I let Sophia go outside without me, I check on her about every 5 minutes.
I’m freaked that something like that will happen to me again. The feeling was awful then and now several times a day I get that blood curdling – heart racing feeling. I don’t like the feeling. I hate not letting the kids be able to have some freedom, but I don’t know what to do about it.
Just writing this post and sent my shivering and into panic mode. This is definitely something I need to go see a doctor to talk about, because it’s not fair for any of us, myself included. I definitely need to do something about it …