The Riddle Was Finally Resolved
My first three posts describe the events that signaled the beginning of my anxiety attack, but they also emphasize my denial that something serious might be happening. Being confronted with the question of
what to do about anxiety puts you in a quandary because you do not want to admit that your problem is mental yet at the same time you have to react.
When I woke up Saturday morning, I knew that I needed help and I was prepared to do anything to prevent that crazy night from occurring again. So, like anyone experiencing anxiety for the first time, I decided that something might be wrong physically, maybe my heart, and that I needed to see a physician. There was a certain relief in the idea that my problem might be organic instead of mental, because I could not (-or maybe - would not) fathom loosing my status of a mentally healthy individual. I was "normal" and I was going to protect that self-image with every single defense mechanism available, denial and rationalization being the most effective ones.
Upon reciting the list of symptoms that I was experiencing, the doctor concluded that it might be anxiety. Needless to say that I was not happy with his diagnosis, but I was relieved when he decided to run more tests after I nodded at his question about weight loss (significant weight loss is a telltale sign of an anxiety attack). At the end of the consultation, the doctor maintained his initial diagnosis and prescribed Valium to help me sleep. I was very ambivalent about this diagnosis. On one hand, I finally had to acknowledge that my problem was in fact psychological, and on the other, the doctor's relaxed and calm demeanor, while giving me his diagnosis, underscored the triviality of having anxiety.
On my way back home, however, that ambivalence turned into relief because now my condition had a name and I was armed against it with Valium (I was still naive). In other words, I felt safe and in control again, which cheered me up to the point of being hungry ( I had not eaten anything since lunch the day before). So, I bought a sandwich and a bottle of diet coke, unaware that ingesting more caffeine was going to bring me back to the state I was in on Friday. Those last few days I had begun associating my panic attacks with anxiety, but for some obscure reason that did not apply to soda, and at that moment drinking soda gave me a sense of victory over my condition. I wanted to believe that everything was back to normal again. I felt as if I was
controlling anxiety, and yet again I was wrong.
Now I am officially living with anxiety
That night the same scenario as that which happened on Friday played out. As soon as I laid down to try to sleep, my brain went on overdrive yet again. I was so afraid of spending another sleepless night that I decided to take a Valium pill, which to me was like acknowledging that I had lost my battle against anxiety. I realized that night that I was powerless against it and that I needed to see a mental health counselor. That admission overwhelmed me with sadness.
Being a psychology student, I knew that cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) was an effective method for treating anxiety, so I went online and looked up a few places. My first stop was at a community counseling center. I had no idea about the cost of this kind of treatment but I figured that a community center might be more affordable.
My first impression of that center was positive because they were nice and pleasant, but my session changed that drastically. First, I was assigned to a psychoanalyst who wasted the first hour asking me questions about my childhood and blaming my upbringing for my current anxiety attack (some 20 years later!). Second, she did not offer any recommendation on how to help me relax, but she did say that I could call her if I needed assistance. That was the worst advice one could give, because I believe that any kind of therapy should strive to help you get strong and independent again. One seeks mental health counseling because of a temporary loss of inner strength, and the goal of therapy is to restore the individual's inner strength and sense of self-control, not to make them dependent on the therapist. The last straw was when the psychoanalyst insisted on setting up an appointment with a psychiatrist to start me on medication. Personally, I felt that she wanted me on medication to be more compliant during therapy, because one would definitely need medication to endure the long talks about how one's childhood created the current problems. I do not deny that psychoanalysis is effective with certain problems but one needs to have a clear idea of the circumstances surrounding a breakdown before making any decision. That was the first and last time I saw her.
My second stop was at the Center for Loss and Renewal. There, I was asked about the circumstances surrounding my anxiety attack and I was given the tools to learn how to relax. There, I was offered some form of CBT. There was the starting point of my recovery, as I began to regain strength and control.
It was also around that time that I was introduced to the benefits of
meditation for anxiety, which I was going to research further until finding the method that suited me best.
Epilogue
I want to emphasize the necessity of doing some thorough research before taking on any kind of therapy. Knowledge is power, and here, knowledge is health. Recovery will be determined by the type of help one gets and by the length of the therapy. In my opinion, the shorter the better.
On my next post I will talk about how I became involved with meditation.
Here are some useful links:
Center for Loss and Renewal, NYC.
Simple Relaxation Exercises and Breathing Techniques
