Life brings sunshine and rain. Both are needed to produce flowers.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

OVERCOMING PANIC ATTACKS!

I insisted on walking back to my room after delivering our healthy five pound boy my husband and I would name Enoch Elijah.  His birth consisted of a brief forty-five minutes of hard labor, followed by a very quick delivery.  This live birth, my third, was my fastest delivery yet!  Tabitha arrived in two hours and ten minutes; Melody in just one hour and forty minutes.  Admittedly all three were premature by several weeks, but aside from being low weight they were all healthy babies.  I strode the hospital hallway exhilarated.  Adrenaline, nature’s upper, flooded my post-birth brain, and I could hardly contain my excitement.  An older nurse brought the cleaned up baby to my room, and we began the bonding process.  An hour later that same nurse retrieved him so I could get some sleep.  

Still under the influence of adrenaline, sleep escaped me.  Then a very strange thing happened.  One minute I was joyous, and the next I was blinded by apprehension and dread.  I had a sudden, overwhelming feeling that something terrible was happening with my newborn.  I buzzed the nurses‘ station, and demanded to be told what was going on with the baby.  They reassured me everything was fine, but I didn’t believe it.  How could these feelings of imminent disaster be mistaken?  I paced the room, heart pounding, stomach clenched like a fist.  What weren’t the nurses telling me?  Again I buzzed the nurses‘ station, and they suggested I walk down to the nursery and look into the window.  I grabbed a robe and flew down the hallway only to see a peacefully sleeping baby.  What was wrong with me?  It was very difficult calming myself down even though I knew my son was safe.  My first panic attack roared down on me like an avalanche.   I never forgot those feelings of terrible dread or the physical effects it had on my body; pounding heart, sweating, shortness of breath, muscle tension and stomach upset.

Ten years later, after my first marriage ended in a nasty divorce, I met and became engaged to the man I would spend the rest of my life with.  That’s when panic attacks entered my life again.  During a winter storm my car slid down an icy hill.  A panic attack left me shaking, and unable to drive the car home.  My fiance rescued me, and calmed me down.  On another occasion I left my wallet at a bank, and the man who found it called to say he would bring it to my home.  This triggered a panic attack, and I hid in the closet, unable to answer the door.  Once again I called my fiance who came home to calm me down, and get my wallet from the stranger.  Then there was the day I panicked when I didn’t have time to complete a math test.  (I was a student at the college where my fiance taught at the time.)  This brought on a full blown panic attack, and I couldn’t stop crying.  A friend escorted me to the therapist’s office on campus where he assessed I was in the midst of a panic attack and talked me down.

After a year and a half engagement Jay Van Tassell and I were married, and the panic attacks slowly began increasing in frequency.  I began to notice circumstances which would likely trigger a panic attack; car trips away from home, traveling at night, being in a strange city, getting lost, heavy traffic, any kind of dental work, and nighttime in general.

My husband taught geology at the college.  Geology trips became problematic for me.  Having to sit next to a male student who made me uncomfortable triggered a panic attack.  Car problems on another trip brought on a panic attack.  Increased anxiety at night made sleeping in a tent potentially nightmarish.  Being away from home was the key element of stress in all these situations.

I began to anticipate the potential for panic attacks while traveling, and started using narcotics prescribed for pain to reduce anxiety.  At the advice of a friend who became aware of my increasing problem with panic attacks I went to a local psychiatrist for help.  This professional, instead of helping me find a cognitive solution or offering behavioral therapy, handed me a script for Valium.  I was to take 5 mg at bedtime when needed, and 5mg as needed for panic attacks while traveling or getting dental work.

It didn’t take long for me to develop an addiction to benzodiazepines.  Within a year I didn’t think I could sleep at night without them.  I also didn’t think I could travel, or go on geology trips without them.  And I never went to the dentist without them.  What started as occasional use within a couple of years became a dependency on 5 mg daily, then 10 mg daily, then 15 mg daily, and finally to 20 mg daily.  As I developed a tolerance to Valium I needed more and more to get the same result.  It took ten years to arrive at the point of needing 20 mg a day, but this addictive result was inevitable because I felt as though I could not control panic attacks, or anxiety any other way.  

Toward the end of my addiction I drugged myself the minute I got in the car for a trip, and kept myself drugged. (My husband always drove.)  To have enough Valium for trips I would stop taking my nightly dose of medication for a week.  I became accustomed  to feeling sick when I went without my nightly dose, but I didn’t associate it with the symptoms of withdrawal.  It never dawned on me that I was physically addicted to Valium.  I didn’t think that was even a possibility.  I did, however, recognize the emotional addiction I was cursed with.  

My psychiatrist began recommending I come off of Valium.  I was adamant when I insisted there would be no way I could manage my life without this medication.  I kept telling him I wasn’t addicted, at least not in the physical sense of the word.  He finally turned over my medication management to my primary care physician who was also handling my opiate medications for a chronic pain problem I’d suffered from for many years.  

In 2008 I almost lost my life when I accidentally overdosed on Valium.  (See “MY NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE” on 2/21/13).  Now my physician insisted I discontinue all Valium use, and go through withdrawal.  I gladly agreed because I knew it was only by God’s grace that I survived the Valium overdose.  The first panic attack occurred a year later when I discovered two dear women very close to my heart were sexually abused as children by someone I knew well.  I felt like my insides were going to come out as I wept.  Overwhelmed with fear for them, I experienced the urge to anticipate the worst.  My body shook, and I had trouble breathing.  I felt like I was going to die.

At first all I could think of was the Valium I didn’t have!  How could I live with the crisis created by this panic attack?  I focused on surviving by my own wits.  I rode the wave of emotions, and counted down from ten to one as the severity of my panic diminished.  Although the symptoms of the panic attack were uncomfortable they did not kill me!  I marveled at my mind’s ability to create such a tornado of emotions, and how my body took up the cause and responded in kind with pounding heart, breathing problems, muscle tension, and exhaustion.  I decided next time to reign the mind in, and try to get control of thoughts of dread, danger and worry.  I asked God to show me how to do this.

The very next month I got my answer from God!  I had traveled to Arizona by myself to visit my oldest daughter and her husband.  One morning as I awoke in strange surroundings the beginnings of a panic attack surged through me.  Adrenaline pored into my system filling me with dread.  Oh NO!  Not here!  Not now!  

Then God spoke to me, “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything give thanks.”  

I thought about that verse which I recognized from Philippians, Chapter Four.  I repeated the words, “give thanks”.  God was guiding me.  Give thanks.  I thought about the nice bed I was in, the sunshine poring through the window, the coming day with my healthy and happy daughter, the nourishing food we would eat, and clean water we would drink.  Within seconds I was back in control of my thoughts and my body's response to the temporary adrenaline surge.  The fear dissolved and the panic dissipated!  That was easy! 

Giving thanks proved to be the key to victory over panic attacks.  I had a couple more opportunities that year to put Philippians, Chapter Four into practice, and it worked immediately each time.  I simply had to be aware enough to switch mental gears, and give thanks.

This technic is not always easy to put into practice.  The stronger the panic attack the more difficult the task of changing thought tracks.  One last example of this happened in July of 2012.  Some panic episodes are so strong you even remember the date!  All the triggers were there; traveling in a strange town far from home, in heavy traffic, my husband became lost.  Driving a rental car without GPS, Jay had no idea where our exit was.  By the time we finally found our exit, and our hotel I was a wreck.  Hyperventilating, shaking, heart pounding and feeling like I was going to pass out I jumped out of the car, and began pacing.  I couldn’t get a grip on this run-a-way train so I called my therapist back in Oregon.  

Of all the things she could have said she picked the perfect visual image for me.  “You are NOT in a concentration camp.”, she said firmly.  I gave that statement serious thought.  Here I am safely standing in a hotel parking lot in the United States of America.  I am NOT in a concentration camp!  What else can I be thankful for?  At the advise of my therapist I took a long, hot bath, and contemplated all the things I had to be grateful for, and at the top of the list; NOT being in a concentration camp.  

The panic “switch” flipped off, and I was able to get control of my racing emotions and thoughts with Philippians 4: 6-8:  “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”  In simple words, “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything give thanks.”

Getting victory over panic attacks was that simple for me!  This technic also helps me when sleep evades me.  I did NOT need medication to be victorious over this insidious problem, and most folks don’t.  It’s unfortunate I was sent the unspoken message by a psychiatrist that the only way to handle panic attacks was with a prescription pad.

Benzodiazepines are one of the most highly prescribed class of drug.  Other brand names for this drug are Xanax, Klonopin, Ativan, Ambien and Librium.   There are occasionally times when we need perhaps a few weeks of medicinal help for severe stress or anxiety, but it should NEVER turn into years of use and addiction!

How many years had I been driven mad by negative thinking?  Our minds have the ability to take us places we never want to go.  Run-a-way thoughts have the power to keep sleep away, make us loose our appetite or eat too much, impact our blood pressure, change our heart rate, increase our respirations, etc, etc, etc.  Philippians 4:8 adds, "Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things."    

Are you overwhelmed with panic and worry?  You don't have to be a slave to negative thoughts!  Ask the Lord to remind you of Philippians 4:6-8 whenever your mind races with anxiety!  Carry this verse in your pocket or purse, tape it on your refrigerator, put it in your glove compartment box.  God wants us to live victorious lives!  If this has helped you share it with us.






Monday, August 26, 2013

TWENTY TWO DAY WHIRLWIND!

What an incredibly fulfilling month August 2013 proved to be!  This is the first time in almost three weeks my husband and I have been alone.  I’m offering this as my excuse for not writing a blog this month.

It all started August 2nd when Enoch, my 35 year old son, came to our home town in Eastern Oregon to attend the county fair with me at my invitation.  Perhaps once a month we are able to see each other, and I treasure our time together!  Sunday morning we had breakfast together before he headed back home to Idaho, and my husband and I left for the Oregon coast.  A belated 37th birthday celebration with my middle child, Melody, was the reason for our visit to the beach.  Melody works at a christian conference center just a few blocks from the ocean so it's always a double blessing to go see her.  

This was my last chance to leave town for the following two months.  As the "Fairy Godmother" in SHREK THE MUSICAL I would not be able to miss any more rehearsals before for the September 6th opening night!  (And September would be filled with thirteen performances.)  After a delightful birthday celebration at the coast Melody came back with us August 7th.  Her brother gifted his sister with a 2001 Mustang!  Jay took Melody to Boise, Idaho to pick the car up.  She stayed at our home another night before heading back to the coast August 9th.  

That same night, at midnight, my oldest child Tabitha, 38 years old, arrived at our home in a rental car.  A flight attendant for Southwest Airlines, she flew into Portland, and headed to Eastern Oregon to say “Goodbye” to her 91 year old paternal grandmother who was dying at a home here in our little town.  The next day, Saturday, my niece Sascha showed up from Washington to attend her 20th high school reunion here.  She and Tabitha grew up together so it worked out great for both women to stay in our guest room, and catch up on each other’s busy lives.

On Sunday morning Sascha left for home, and that afternoon my ex sister-in-law, Joyce arrived.  Joyce and her husband had camped out in their travel trailer several days before it was decided her husband would return to their home with the trailer, and Joyce would stay with us until her mother passed away.  Her passing seemed imminent, and we were happy to give both Joyce and Tabitha a place to stay during this time.  Joyce is like a second mother to Tabitha.  The two of them decided to keep vigil over this faithful servant of God, mother and grandmother Helen Evans, until she passed.

Helen was born in January of 1922 with a severe cleft pallet.  In the 20's this kind of condition was usually left surgically untreated.  Children made fun of her, and treated her differently.  Helen learned to avoid cameras, and situations which drew attention to herself.  She also experienced difficulty eating.  Any food that produced crumbs could choke her easily.  In spite of all these things Helen never complained, or felt sorry for herself.  She accepted her disability, living a productive and hard working life.  Even in the nursing home she insisted on helping with chores such as folding laundry until the last two weeks of her life!    

Tabitha felt strongly that her sister, Melody, should have an opportunity to say her good byes to Grandma Evans.  On Monday, August 12th, Melody took time off work to come back to Eastern Oregon.  Melody, Tabitha and their Aunt Joyce bonded during many quiet hours of knitting while sitting with bedridden Helen.  After four days Melody needed to get back to the coast and work.  She cherished some wonderful final moments with her grandmother, and said her goodbyes.  Tabitha took four more days off work so she could stay with Aunt Joyce while her grandmother transitioned into the next world.  This was too important, and she was compelled to be there at the finish line. 

Sunday, August 18th, Helen Evans died at 6:10 PM.  Her’s was a peaceful passing with both Tabitha and Joyce at her side.  I was sitting in church when I got the call from my eldest daughter.  On Tuesday Tabitha headed back to Arizona, and her husband.  Joyce had many things to do to prepare for the funeral the following Saturday, and we invited her to continue staying with us through that week.  She was grateful for the invitation, and gladly took us up on the offer.  Joyce excels at courtesy, compassion, and listening which made her a delightful guest!  

Melody and my son, Enoch, both arrived Friday, August 23, for the funeral the following day.  They came from opposite directions for a unified purpose.  Summerville Cemetery is a beautiful place where both Grandma and Grandpa Evans now rest.  Many friends and relatives attended the lovely outdoor service.  Helen excelled in generosity, and was deeply loved by many.  Late afternoon everyone was gone, and our guest room sat empty for the first time in twenty two days!  If silence took up space, our home would be piled high with it right now.

I’m filled with gratefulness to God who coordinated all of our guests comings and goings so wonderfully in the last three weeks.  I’m also abundantly proud of my husband who prepared delicious breakfasts each morning for whoever happened to be staying with us at the time.  Various fresh fruit cobblers, crepes, muffins, and fruit and yogurt parfaits prepared by my husband nourished our guests.  He also kept everyone in clean bedding and towels.  Jay never ceases to amaze me with his “servant’s heart”.

What a wonderfully busy three weeks. There was no "drama" or negativity during these twenty two days.  I give God the glory!    


Melody (top left), Tabitha (top right), Joyce (bottom left), and me.






Melody with her new car.


Enoch and Melody following the service.




Melody and I before she left for the coast.





My husband, Jay, and I made a terrific team for 22 years,
 and this last twenty two day proved it!