I'm not perfect. Anxiety and depressive issues/disorders run through my family. Everyone in my immediate family suffers in some way - and I am not immune.
Although they are somewhat rare (a handful per year), I suffer from panic attacks. As I was going through my divorce, they were severe enough (and I was depressed enough) that I was on medication. Thankfully, on average, I don't feel that I need to be medicated any more.
But the panic attacks are real and scary. Sometimes, it happens when I'm at the doctor's office - for no reason. At other times, they happen as I am winding down for bed. Last week, I had a panic attack over pillows.
After watching my favorite show (the Fosters), I took the dog out and headed up to bed. When I got there, my husband was already asleep. He had left me the two sub-par pillows. At first, I found it a bit humorous... and started laughing as an initial way to relieve stress. It wasn't funny. I couldn't identify and work through my feelings. I threw the pillows on the floor. I started crying. I got up and went into another room so I could turn the light on. I got a tissue. I tried going back to bed but got up again. I went and found a pillow that would make me feel more "comfortable." I realized how stupid it was to get upset over pillows, and yet couldn't stop the flow of emotion.
As a rational person, I also believe it wasn't really about the pillows. There were other things going on in my life at the time that contributed (such as stress over what to wear for pictures at work).
Thankfully - this time - I was eventually (20-30 minutes later) able to wind down and fall asleep.
In other news... this weekend, we got new pillows for the bed.
So why post about something like this on the blog? I guess it's two-fold, for me. It demonstrates that I'm a "real" person, and not just the photographer behind Wordless Wednesday. But I also hope - in some small way - there are friends (or family) out there who can relate. And understand that something like this is part of the human experience.
