Skip to main content

Brain Injuries and Anxiety Attacks

“I can’t close my eyes. I will die.” She told me as her breathing grew shallow.

“I can’t breathe. I am dying. Please tell my friends what happened.”
“Look at me. Breathe with me. In through your nose. Out your mouth.” I attempted to calm her by speaking quietly and rhythmically. Slowly her breathing became deeper.

“I just know I am going to die. What if I have a disease that is from another country and the cure is not in America yet? I don’t travel to other countries so I will die.” Again, I talked rationally to her hoping to ease her worry.
She continued to tell me she was going to die. No matter the rationale I used, she continued to be convinced that come morning, she would be dead. No matter the number of times I told her I would keep her safe, she was adamant that she was dying. No matter what I did or said, she knew she was going to die.

I would like to tell you that this is the beginning of a story I am writing. A piece of fiction. This is no piece of fiction. The anxiety attack taking place in my living room this evening was very real. I am told a brain injury can cause anxiety, along with other emotions, to be magnified. It has been a long evening. What did it take for her to be able to finally sleep? Holding hands and transferring my “healing love energy” to her. I will let our dialogue give you a peek into what it is like to observe a panic/anxiety attack and the helpless feeling that goes along with it.
“What makes you think you are going to die?” I asked her hoping to get a glimpse into what was going on for her physically in order to come up with a way to ease her suffering.

“I don’t know,” she cried. “My whole body hurts.”
The conviction that she was going to die continued as her voice grew more and more frantic. “You are having an anxiety attack. You will make it through this. Stick with me. Listen to me. We will get through it together.”

“I am dying.” She cried.
I casually gave her a pain pill hoping she would take it. Often she will put up with the pain to avoid taking medicine. Thankfully, she took the pill when I gave it to her.

“Come sit beside me. I want to hold your hand.” Her voice was reminiscent of when she was eight. The mothering instinct in me knew I had to give her what she needed. I sat down at the end of the couch as her hand reached for mine. “I hurt. I am going to die.” She perseverated on dying. What is a mother to say? Nothing would change her mind.
“I’m sorry you had to cancel your party tonight.”

“There is nothing that would keep me from being with you when you need me. I love you.”

“What does that feel like? I have never felt love.” I continued to hear the eight year old of long ago.
“Focus on your head. I am going to send love and healing through my hands to your body.” (In the last couple of years as I have been going through my transformation, I have begun to feel energy coursing through my body. I know it is a positive energy. A healing energy filled with love. An energy meant to be passed on.)

As I held her hand, I focused on transferring love and healing to her. We sat in silence for a few minutes.
“I have never been this afraid. If I die, give Stacey Marvel. I know she loves snakes and will take care of her.”

“OK. Right now, I want you to focus on the feel of my hand in yours. The energy coming from me and going to where you need it.”
“Why do I feel tingly all over?”

“Probably the medicine you took.”
“No, medicine doesn’t work on me.”

“You are feeling my love energy being transferred to you. There is so much of it that it causes your body to tingle so you know it’s there.”
“Is that what love feels like?”

“It is what your mother’s love feels like.”
“Have you always loved me? Did you love me when I was a baby? How did you know?”

I took the time to answer each of her questions. I was honest with her. “I have always loved you, but I didn’t always show it very well.” She accepted that and squeezed my hand a bit tighter.
Other conversation happened that I will keep private. Conversation about love, forgiveness, the fear of people leaving. I stuck with her through the ebbs and flows of her anxiety during the attack. She finally began to relax giving me an opportunity to get some dinner. It was a short-lived.

“Mom, are you almost done? I think I need more of that love energy from your hand.”

 

 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

WABDR: Section 1

Section 1  We end at the beginning  Does it feel like this trip will never end? Epic adventures tend to last a bit longer than just an average one. So….on with our tale.  We got our bikes all packed up and continued over White Pass. The first time we went over it, it was a cloudy day. Thus, the visibility of the mountains was not much. I was expecting the same on our return trip to Packwood. Therefore, it took my breath away when I saw the mountain off in the distance for the first time. The beauty was so overwhelming, I teared up.    I continued to watch the mountain until I could see it no more. Soon we were in Packwood. Back where we started. After a quick breakfast at the local coffee shop, we were on our way. I may have taken a few minutes to ride the big bike first… Not too long though, because someone was ready to get moving.  Jennifer had some friends that were camping at Walupt Lake, which is right on the trail for Sectio...

Aging sucks.....or does it?

Upon first thought, watching a parent age sucks. Unnoticeable at first. A bit of a stoop, some creaking in the knees, whitening of the hair. The doctor’s visits begin, as do the pills One for high blood pressure, another to thin the blood, and a handful of vitamins to top it off. The signs are there, but it is easier to see him as he has always been. My father, a pillar of strength. Until my pillar was knocked off-kilter. A simple surgery and the mortality of my father looked me square in the eye when the drugs took hold of his brain. Amidst his fidgeting and confusion, I realized…AGING SUCKS! And then….enlightenment dawned upon me….AGING IS BEAUTIFUL Wrinkles tell of smiles while silver hair speaks a life of memories. Knees creaky after years of kneeling in prayer, offering up a lap, and climbing up the stairs for one more kiss goodnight. Almost forty-eight years of memories nestled in my heart. Memories of my father. Taking us to church each Sunday Building and fixing ...

WABDR, Section 2: Part 1

WE GET ON THE TRAIL, finally WABDR Section 2 It has taken forever to get to this part of the story, but we are finally here! The day we go off-road. But first, we go into Packwood in hopes of getting a first-aid kit that we realized we forgot the previous evening. No first-aid kit was to be found. Mostly because the one store that we figured would have one was closed. If you read the second installment of this story, you already know our response. (For those who didn’t read it, we dubbed this the F-it Trip.) We would figure it out as we went along. The way we handled it was to have a good breakfast and charge up our intercom system. As we rode down the road to get to the trail with our music playing, I felt as if we were straight out of Easy Rider... except much more badass. After all, we were going off-road. Pretty sure the big, wide, bug-catching grin on my face didn’t look so tough though.  White Pass went on for awhile. The clouds looked a bit ominous. I paid i...