

### Panxiety

You're not alone.

By: Ron Keys

Copyright © 2009 by Ron Keys

All rights reserved.

Cover design by Ron Keys

Smashwords Edition August 2009

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Special thanks to my wife and kids.

Without them I would never have had the strength to defeat this disorder.

Special thanks to author John Gribbin for allowing me to reference his name and his work in my book. It was a key point in my life that assisted me on the road to recovery.

Table of contents

Quotes and a poem

Dedication to all

Panic Disorder Definition (In short)

Important

Chapter One – Reasons why

Chapter Two – My understanding

Chapter Three – So it begins

Chapter Four – Changes

Chapter Five – Breaking point

Chapter Six – Getting Help

Chapter Seven – Release

Chapter Eight – Back in the chair
Chapter Nine – Mine alone
Chapter Ten – I can't do it alone

Chapter Eleven – Round two in the chair

Chapter Twelve – Will alone

Chapter Thirteen – Out from the shadow

Chapter Fourteen – What is... is

Chapter Fifteen – Where to begin

Chapter Sixteen – The hidden track

Quotes and a poem

"Three things are guaranteed to those of us who walk amongst the living. We are born, we breathe and we die. What we do while we are breathing is how we separate ourselves as individuals from the rest of the world's population, and how we make that separation is only driven by desire and/or need. Not everything is chance. Sometimes we unconsciously put ourselves in life's path."

Ron Keys - 2007

"I am nothing without my love as I am nothing without my hate. Either to the extreme would only mire me in self righteousness, indignant to all or ignoring self. Happiness is never found in the extreme but only in the balance that is life."

Ron Keys - 2008

Panxiety

Touched by a moment that was accompanied by fear

Surround by emotion that holds me hear

I can't trust what I see because I know what I feel

I lost all belief in what I know that is real

That moment that touched me turned into years

I was crushed by the weight of all those fears

Life became more than I could comprehend

I held out no hope that there would ever be an end

Anxiety washed over me wave after wave

I was unwilling to remain my anxiety's slave

I searched for answers night and day

I had no other choice but to find a way

It was not easy to walk from the sea

But I found all the answers inside of me

Believe you can heal and put it on the shelf

But remember that belief begins in one's self

Ron Keys - 2009

Dedication to all

A lot of books open up with "thanks to" or "I couldn't have done this without" and it was my original intention to NOT follow that same format. I was only interested in expressing my anger with those people who only had me as a friend when it suited them. But I could not ignore the people who helped out my family even though I never asked them for that help. Nobody knew what I was going through and that help alleviated some stress that made some days easier to get through.

You will always know who your true friends are and which people truly care for you because they are the ones still around when you are at your lowest point in your life. It's a remarkable thing when someone gives from their soul after having time to think about it. I can count on one hand the number of people that I would do almost anything for. As for everybody else in my life it would be out of obligation that I would even give them the time of day.

That last sentence in the previous paragraph is kind of cold and it's going to hurt some people's feelings as they will assume that I am talking about them or that I am putting them in that category. Well, if you're assuming that I am talking about you then you're self centered and there is a very good chance that I am talking about you. You can look to me for help but don't look to me for sympathy. Because to be sympathetic requires that I love, and love is a commodity that I give sparingly and only to those who are deserving.

Truth of the matter is that it is no one's responsibility but my own to make sure that I get through this life one way or the other. That I understand. For those of you who were there when my family needed you the most... Thank you.

The Rest of you.

I was always told not to hate people but only hate the things that they do. I have realized that a person's actions are a direct reflection of who they truly are. Hating a person along with their actions is not beneath me. To tell you anything different would only be lie. With that said, I can think of no one in my life that I truly hate anymore. I tolerate a lot of people but I don't hate them. If you have given me a reason not to like you then that was all the reason I needed not to include you in my life. I refuse to put myself into situations and around people where I feel uncomfortable. I also do my best to keep my family out of those same situations. I'm not asking anyone to change just for me or my family. All I ask is for you to accept who I am and go on with your life as I will be doing the same.

Panic Disorder

Panic disorder is characterized by unexpected and repeated episodes of intense fear accompanied by physical symptoms that may include chest pain, heart palpitations, shortness of breath, dizziness, or abdominal distress. These sensations often mimic symptoms of a heart attack or other life-threatening medical conditions.

People with panic disorder have feelings of terror that strike suddenly and repeatedly with little or no warning. During a panic attack, most likely your heart will pound and you may feel sweaty, weak, faint, or dizzy. Your hands may tingle or feel numb, and you might feel flushed or chilled. You may have nausea, chest pain or smothering sensations, a sense of unreality, or a fear of impending doom or loss of control.

In a given year 2.4 million Americans experiences panic disorder.

It is estimated that 2.7% of Americans suffer from panic disorder.

It is estimated that 2 million Canadians suffer from panic disorder.

Two thirds of those who suffer from Panic Disorder are women.

For more information on Anxiety disorders I encourage you to visit the National Institue of Mental Health website (USA) or the Canadian Mental Health Association webite.

Important

If you suffer from Panic Disorder I strongly urge you to seek medical help immediately. There are treatments that have proven to be very successful.

I suffered in silence from explosive panic disorder for many years. This book contains some of my experiences with the disorder and how I overcame it, but this book is not a substitute for proper medical attention.

Always remember you are not alone and there is help out there for you.

Chapter One - Reasons Why

Writing this book is one the hardest things I ever had to do and there are a lot of reasons for that. One reason is because I am a man and I procrastinate, plain and simple. Also, although I have not suffered a panic attack in a few years, I still live in fear of having another one. In addition I was concerned that writing this book might trigger another attack because I was visiting places in my mind where I did not want to go.

You can't fully explain what it is like to have a panic attack to someone who has never had a panic attack. There are feelings and physical sensations that are a precursor to these sudden and unexplained attacks. These feelings and sensations can rise suddenly with a full blown attack or they can linger just beneath the surface for days and never result in a panic attack. I know I will never have a full blown attack again, but those feelings and physical sensations still haunt me periodically. It's like being forced to walk on the edge of a shadow that is cast by a building. On one side you have light and the warmth of the sun and on the other side you have darkness that you are trying to avoid. I am no more able to step off that line and fully into the light as I am able to run from my own shadow. Good new is, over the past year, those feelings and sensations have started to dissipate. I am not sure that they will ever be totally gone but they have become less of a factor in my life.

I also lack the belief in myself to be able to write a book of any kind. I'm a grade twelve drop out who has lied about having his high school diploma. There are very few things that I started and actually finished. Why is it always easier to find reasons not to do something than it is to convince yourself that you can?

This book was no different than any other project I decided to start. I was beginning to find all the reasons I needed to not write this book when a thought entered my mind. A thought that I had a few times before, in one form or another, that helped to convice myself to complete this book. I was in my car and stopped at a light one day and from that vantage point I could see a large portion of the city. Houses large and small, duplexes and apartment buildings. Every kind of building providing shelter for the populous. I started on my way and I asked myself a question.

Where did it all go wrong?

Have I become part of the general populous that has fallen into a daily routine that provides us with some sense of security? A security that we are unwilling to risk losing even when life becomes stagnant? Like everyone else, venturing outside my comfort zone would only be met with self-doubt and fears of failure. Self-doubt and fears that were reinforced by people around me who questioned my ability to succeed. The first question that is always asked is "what if you fail?"

Has everyone lost hope of ever being able to separate themselves in some way that would identify themselves as individuals? Do they want more out of their life but are they to afraid to try because they lack the confidence in their abilities to overcome the hurtles to succeed? Have they convinced themselves that they don't have the tools to even attempt to try to overcome those hurtles? Do they not realizing that in the effort they will gain the tools and the knowledge on how to use those tools to succeed? Is their unwillingness to try directly related to the fear of how they will be perceived by others if they fail?

A hollow feeling rose in my chest as I started feeling trapped and I saw no hope that I would ever be able to change my life. I could only rely on extreme luck to realize my hopes and my dreams. Don't get me wrong. I know I have already been very lucky to get to where I'm at now. I appreciate what I have and I know there are many people who would trade places with me in a heartbeat. But it is only human nature to want something more out of my life for myself and for my family and I saw no way to achieve it.

Not having a high school diploma has definitely hurt me. When it comes to employment I am limited in the types of starting positions I can step into and my earning potential has a ceiling. Years of facing this inadequacy has only reinforced that sense of self-doubt. As a result whenever I start something there is always a point in the process that I convince myself that I lack the necessary tools to complete the project.

There is also the concern about what people might think as they read this book. There is going to be a lot of people who are not interested in my opinions and what I have to say. Those who are interested will undoubtedly have an opinion of their own on what they have read. Some of it will be good and some of it will be bad. I have learned a few things from defeating my panic attacks and one of those lessons is that it doesn't matter what people think of me and it doesn't matter if they are not interested in what I have to say. This is one of the reasons why we have panic attacks. It can play a large part or a small part but it but it does play a part.

We spend a lot of time stressing out over how other people perceive us. We sometimes will do everything we can to make sure we are not looked upon in a poor light. Stop worrying about how things should be to please the world and the people around you, start doing things the way you want to. You still have to remain mindful of other people and show them the common respect that we all deserve but not at the expense of your own mental and physical wellbeing.

I have to finish this book. If not for me then for the people it might help. At the very least I will have gained a small sense of accomplishment. It is not going to cost me anything more than the investment of my time.

Chapter Two - My Understanding

Panic disorder doesn't discriminate. It doesn't matter if you're rich, poor, black, white, brown, famous or just another pretty face in the crowd. The time of day doesn't even matter, you can be wide awake or in a deep sleep. They can strike suddenly and with little or no warning.

I would even argue the statistic that it affects twice as many women than it does men. Let's be honest, men are less likely to let people know they are suffering from anything until it's too late. I know! I'm a man! I was having multiple attacks each and everyday for many years before I told my wife that something was wrong and that I needed help. How many male suicides can be attributed to panic disorder? That act alone points to a mental heath issue. The answer is, we will never know.

Unfortunately that is just the nature of a man. It is something that has been ingrained into our genes from the dawn of time. Having any ailment, physical or mental, only puts us at a disadvantage with our rivals. There is also the fact that the community as a whole doesn't look upon those with a mental illness in a favorable light. I kept my disorder secret because I was embarrassed and I had the mistaken belief that I was the only one suffering from this ailment.

I can't explain to you why people suffer from panic disorder. All I can do is relate to you my opinion based on my own experiences. What I have come to understand about my disorder was that it was the culmination of many different things in my life that just came to a head. At the core of it all was one key event, an event that everything else was anchored to. I spent a great deal of energy and mental resources to push that anchor, and all that was attached, to the back of my mind. There it sat in my subconscious, hidden away in the darkest possible recess.

There comes a point where our subconscious is no longer able, or willing, to deal with what we have suppressed. Anxiety and panic attacks are a manifestation of this emotional overload. It was sometime in my mid-twenties that everything started to break lose and the fabric of the reality that I had known started to fray.

So why does this disorder start to affect most people in their early to mid-twenties? The disorder is brought on for many different reasons and no person will have the same set of catalysts. However there is some commonalities that I have noticed. It's at this age that a lot of responsibilities are thrust upon us. Such as making sure we hold down a job so the rent and bills are paid every month. It is also at this age that most of us experience death for the first time. Whether it's a friend or a family member it tends to shatter our teenage belief that we are invincible and it reinforces the fact that life is frail and finite. Through it all, problems and issues that a person is battling, consciously and/or unconsciously, start to come to the forefront. It could be a major event in the past that has been suppressed or an over-fixation on a fear that always lingers on the edge of one's thoughts. It could be almost anything that the mind is unwilling to deal with any longer, and it manifests itself in the form of a panic attack.

I am probably going to type the following statement more than once in this book. "There are only three guarantees in life. We are born, we breathe and we die." That's it. That simple. Everything that happens while we breathe is what makes life difficult. I know the word "difficult" is a negative way to view life but I only use it because life is definitely not easy. Life is a struggle for all of us. Some more so than others.

When I suffered my first panic attack there were a few warning signs that I ignored. The first sign started happening in my early twenties. I suffered from sleep paralysis. What is sleep paralysis? In short, your brain enters into REM sleep an your body becomes paralyzed. It is during this time that your brain throws everything that it has taken in for that day, on it's proverbial floor and sorts it out. It pieces it all back together and sometimes dreams are created. If your body wasn't paralyzed your arms and legs would be flailing around as you dream. Sometimes your brain starts to come out of REM sleep but your body is still paralyzed. You're not fully asleep and you're not fully awake and as a result you start to hallucinate. I never really slept well. When I did fall into a deep sleep I would force my mind awake before my body could adjust. As a result there was a short period of time where I was stuck between being asleep and being fully conscious. During this time I sometimes thought I was being paralyzed and "observed" by aliens. I know, I know... sounds crazy. But you would be surprised by what is seeded in your brain when you watch one to many alien abduction programs on TV.

The second sign was a little more physically debilitating. Along with dizziness I started to suffer from more and more migraine headaches. They would start out with halo vision first. What is halo vision? Halo vision is when a bright sparkling line appears in your direct line of sight. It starts out as a small speck and intensifies until you can not focus on anything that you look directly at. Once your vision returns it is, for me, always followed by a migraine headache. I know that these headaches were a direct result of the stress that was building up in my life.

Other signs also started to happen just before my first panic attack, and they occurred mostly as I was trying to go to sleep at night. I could never have predicted what those signs were leading up to, but if I had made people around me aware of how frequently they were happening, I might have got help long before my first panic attack occurred.

Before I get into the chronology of my panic attacks I want to try and give you a basic explanation of what a panic attack is. In short a panic attack is a huge and sudden adrenaline dump into your system that triggers a fight or flight response. When that fight or flight response is triggered there is a very strong feeling of life-threatening danger. Not just the "I might get hurt" feeling of a threat, but the "I could die" feeling of a threat. This can even happen while you are sleeping. I have woken up many times in the middle of the night breathing heavily and gripped in fear for no logical reason. Remember, at one time in our evolution we were hunted by other animals for food so this fight or flight response is deeply rooted in our past as a species.

It has been said that, for most people, the first panic attack is the strongest, and every attack that follows does not effect them to the level that the first one did. For me, that was not the case. My first attack was bad but it was not the most traumatic. I had many severe attacks with the most traumatic one happening years after that first attack. I suffered from explosive panic attacks. What's an explosive panic attack? An explosive panic attack is when you start to think you are the cause of the life threatening danger. That you might lose control and hurt yourself or someone else. I always feared that I had or would black out and hurt someone, or I was not able to stop someone from being hurt. Mostly I feared causing something bad to happen, and being unable to stop myself, while not becoming aware of it before it was to late. During these times the anxiety would quickly rise and I would be slammed into a full blown panic attack.

My biggest problem is that I don't have a quiet mind. I think about anything and everything all the time. When a situation arises I contemplate the best as well as the worse possible outcome. When the attacks happened I had difficulty distinguishing the difference between reality and my imagination. I lived everyday in a nightmare, gripped in fear that something dire was going to happen and there was nothing I could do to stop it or change it. Images of the event would flood my mind and before I knew it, I was in a panic attack.

My imagination always got the best of me. Until I got help most of my attacks came on suddenly and unexpectedly. However, a percentage of them were triggered by my over-active imagination. After seeking out help the percentages slowly flipped until the majority of my attacks were brought on by my over active imagination. It was as if I was testing myself only to find that I still had no control over the attacks.

Chapter Three - So it begins

I remember my first attack clearly. I was 26 years old and life was moving along nicely with apparently no real stress. At the time my wife and I were planning to get married. Everything was falling into place and one night it unexpectedly happened. I was lying in bed and a few thoughts were going through my head as I was trying to think of something pleasant to help me fall asleep. In the back of my mind I was hearing classical piano music, which is kind of funny because I do not play a musical instrument of any kind. I started to think of where I was in life and where I could have been if different decisions had been made. I was thinking of all the things I didn't have, I was placing blame, and I was feeling angry. This was not that unusual for me except this night I started hearing voices.

I had heard these voices before and I knew they were only my thoughts that my brain gave individual tones to, but I was unable to stop them as they took on a mind of their own. Let's be honest, we all carry on conversations with ourselves and it is not much different than what you're doing right now. As you read this book I am sure you hear your own voice in your head as you go over the text. It's how we take in information and how we comprehend that information. To this day I am unwilling to share the content of those thoughts as it is embarrassing and shameful. I have come to the realization that some secrets are mine to keep. What I can tell you is that these voices triggered an adrenaline dump into my system, and I was filled with an intense sense of fear. A fear of being on the edge of losing control and unable to stop myself until it was to late.

For the next few hours I lay on my bed, breathing heavily as the anxiety continued to build. I was staring at the wall, unable to close my eyes for anything longer than a blink. My imagination was getting the best of me. I had a death grip on my blanket in both hands as wave after wave of fear rushed through my body. I spent those hours trying to block out every thought, and I made every effort to push each feeling to the back of my mind. As my wife slept peacefully in the same bed, I repeated over and over in my head "this is not real, I like my life."

Once the adrenaline left my system I was able to sit up. I took a few slow, deep breaths and stared at my trembling hands. All I could think to myself was "what the hell was that?" Little did I know I had started down a road that would take many years to travel, and one that would change my life and my personality as I had known it only a day before.

It didn't take long before I had my second attack. This time it started with a sense of déjà vu. My wife and I were driving along and having a conversation about something. I can't tell you what the conversation was about because, again, I'm a man. To say I was listening intently would be a lie. It's just our nature. Nonetheless I was looking very interested, when all of a sudden I had the feeling of déjà vu that was immediately followed by a rush of intense fear.

"I've been here before," I said to myself.

"Something is going too happen."

"This is not good."

"My God, I've been here before."

"Something bad is going to happen."

It was no longer just déjà vu, it was a premonition, and I was searching my thoughts frantically trying to predict what the imminent event was. The anxiety washed over my body as I was now in a full blown panic attack. My wife was still talking, she is a woman and it's in her nature, and unaware of what was happening to me. My grip on the steering wheel tightened, my knuckles went white, and my fingertips went purple as I squeezed the blood out of my hands.

"It's me."

"What am I going to do?"

I was now staring at my hands, and more specifically my right hand. More thoughts rushed through my mind as we came to a stop in a turning lane. I continued the quiet but frantic search for what was about to happen.

"I'm going to hit my wife."

"I can't hit my wife."

"I love my wife."

"This isn't right."

"Why would I hit my wife? I love her."

"Did I hit my wife?"

"No. She is still talking."

"Hold on to the steering wheel."

"My God, why would I be thinking this."

"HOLD ON TO THE STEERING WHEEL!"

"I HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!"

I looked at my hands then I looked at the door. I was seconds away from jumping from the car and running into traffic to try to escape myself.

"Hold it together," I said to myself again.

"You would never hit your wife."

"Did I hit my wife?"

"Did I black out?"

"No. You didn't hit your wife."

"You would never hit your wife."

"You would never hit your wife."

"Think of something else."

"Think of something else."

"You would never hit your wife."

The attack was intensifying.

The turning light had gone green and the traffic started to move. I was able to pull myself back into the moment as my mind was distracted by the act of driving the car. I had control, no matter how tenuous it was. My wife was still talking. Hey, she's a woman and it's in her nature, and I love her.

What helps make the panic attack balloon so quickly is the images that rush in with the thoughts. They are not hallucinations but images of the act you think is going to happen. Then you start questioning yourself as to whether or not it happen.

Did I black out?

The rest of the way home I found myself looking at the road then to my hands and then to my wife to make sure she was okay. Then another image would enter my head. Again, I would look to my hands then to my wife to make sure she was okay. My right hand never came off the steering wheel for the rest of the drive. To this day she doesn't know about this panic attack and it's content. It's very hard to add this to the book as I don't know how she is going to react when she reads it. I almost filed this experience in my "Some secrets are mine to keep" file.

The attacks started to happen more frequently. They went from happening once a week or so to every couple of days, to every day. Near my breaking point they could happen 3 to 5 times a day. It didn't even matter if I was awake or asleep. There was many times I suddenly woke in the middle of the night gripped in fear for no reason at all, with my wife asking "what's wrong?" over and over. "Nothing," I would say. "Just a nightmare." The images that rushed in with the déjà vu started to become more graphic, and the premonitions more horrific. At the same time my halo vision followed by a migraine headache started to happen more often.

One of the most traumatic panic attacks happened early on in my battle with the disorder. We were living in a duplex that had a basement suite for other tenants. I was practicing darts when I was suddenly struck by a panic attack. It started with the feeling of déjà vu and was quickly followed by an onslaught of images that rushed into my mind. Almost instantaneously I was filled with anxiety.

"This is familiar," I said to myself silently.

"Something is going to happen."

Again, I was in full blown panic attack. I was breathing more quickly and my muscles started to tighten. The feeling of anxiety was passing over my body in waves from head to toe. The pace at which I was throwing darts increased as I rushed through my mind to find out what was about to happen.

"They're dead downstairs."

"I'm responsible."

"Did I black out and do something?"

"STOP!"

"Breathe."

"Get control of yourself."

"Look at your hands."

"No blood."

"I didn't do anything."

"Listen."

"There's noise."

"They're alive."

"Look at your hands."

"No blood."

I released my grip on my darts and they fell to the ground next to my left foot. I backed up and sat on the couch with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. "What's wrong with me?" I asked myself. "I'm going crazy" I answered in silence. I tried to pull myself back into reality. "I'm not suppose to be here. I should be dead".

At the time I had many different conflicting opinions about our existence. One of them was the belief that we relived the same life over and over again until we got it right. I started to believed that I never survived much past the age of thirty in any previous life. I knew at this point I had to do something or this life would be no different and I would take my own life.

I decided to do nothing. No one could know about this. I was sure that I could fix this on my own or it would just go away. It was at this time that I started to gamble. I needed money because money could fix everything. In reality it only created more stress and uncertainty in my future. I could only be sure about one thing.

More panic attacks.

Chapter Four - Changes

As time went by and my disorder progressed, my personality and my actions started to change. I even started to develop other disorders as I let the panic attacks go unchecked. The fear of heights and the fear of flying became more pronounced, and I was becoming obsessive-compulsive. I would check to make sure the doors were locked three, four and five times before I went to bed. I would leave for work in the morning and I would have to turn around and drive back home to make sure I didn't hit a pedestrian. I knew that I didn't but I had to see it with my own eyes.

I no longer could sit in silence. I had to preoccupy my mind. I had to do what I could to block all of my own thoughts. When I went to bed I left the TV on and concentrated on the voices coming from the program until I fell asleep. When my wife woke up and turned the TV off, I would wake up realizing there is no background sound and turn it back on again (To this day I still leave the TV on out of habit and not necessity.) I no longer allowed myself to watch horror movies or programs about the paranormal or UFO's.

We are what we eat and your brain is no different. If you want a healthy brain then you must feed it good information.

I started to read. I came to the conclusion that if I read a book and allowed my imagination to run with what I was reading then my brain would never have the time to flood itself with thoughts that would trigger a panic attack. For a short time it worked. I wasn't having massive attack after massive attack. They were happening everyday but they were short and controllable. They ranged from being in a building and thinking that at any moment the building was going collapse on top of me, to sitting in front of my boss during a wage review and thinking I could just punch him square in the face and he won't see it coming. Sure we all may have had those kind of thoughts about our boss, but try having them when you are unsure that you can stop yourself. The most difficult attacks I had to deal with involved my children. I always feared that they would get hurt and I was not able to help them. As parents we are constantly concerned about their safety and well being. Obviously, during those times, I would be concerned that the event had actually happened and I would be in a panic attack again.

I was still unwilling to let anyone know what was happening to me. Even when people would pick up on my physical changes during an attack, I would explain it away as just being sick. Once I was at my desk and a co-worker asked if I was okay as she had noticed that I had gone very pale in the face. I told her that I just wasn't feeling well and that I was coming down with the flu or something. Even during the delivery of my second child, the doctor noticed something was wrong as I was pale and not blinking. In both cases I was in a full blown panic attack, thinking my heart was going to stop, and I was going to die. I could feel my heart beating and thought I was going to have a heart attack right at that moment. I wanted to collapse to the floor but I couldn't because everyone would know something was wrong with me.

As I have said, reading did help for awhile. I began occupying my mind by reading science fiction fantasy books. It was tough to find a series that I liked and one that was not too graphic as I was still trying to monitor what I was exposing to my brain. I came across a series of books by one author that allowed me the time to regain some control over my thoughts and the severity of my panic attacks.

I like to think I have a very logical, analytical and inquisitive mind. If I did not have these attributes I would never have been able to make myself search for facts immediately around myself that helped me hold on to reality during a panic attack. Facts that reminded me that nothing I thought or felt during an attack was real. Audible and visual cues that I held onto that reinforced the fact that it was all happening in my brain and not happening for real. Having a mind like this can also be a problem. How? I didn't like not knowing or not having a basic understanding of the things I was contemplating. A hundred things would go through my mind all within a few minutes, even while I was cooking dinner. I was not just asking questions and contemplating all possible answers, but I was flooding my mind with relevant images at the same time. Never taking time to appreciate what I was doing at that moment.

I also spent a great deal of time worrying about things outside of this world just as much as I did about the world around me. Things that I could not control or change. As I thought about some of these things, it would trigger a panic attack as I could not comprehend the enormity of it all. Remember, I'm a grade twelve drop out. Not even the smartest people in the world can answer these questions, they can only theorize about them.

Fact was that I didn't have a quiet mind and it was out of control. And so I came to a very important point in my life. It was at this point that I started on the road to recovery, teaching myself that I didn't need the exact answer to any of my questions. Things didn't have to be black or white but they could be grey as long as the answer was rational and acceptable to me. At the end of it all I would find the one answer that was relevant to all my questions.

I was walking through a book store when I passed the science section. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a book called "The Birth of Time" by John Gribbin. As I looked over the book I noticed the second title "How astronomers measured the age of the universe." I said to myself "This should really preoccupy my mind or screw me up even further." I bought the book regardless of what effect the content of the book might have on me. Throughout the book Mr. Gribbin discusses the historical progression of the methods that were used to date the Universe. At one point he discusses quantum physics and how the scientists observed the rate of decay in certain radio-active material, and how they used that information to determine the age of the universe. To give myself some sort of understanding of quantum physics, I started my research on the internet. Essentially, quantum physics is the study of subatomic particles. While I was searching the internet for content I could somewhat understand, I came across a page that had theories that were developed with quantum physics as their base. One of the theories that caught my eye was the "Many Worlds" theory.

In short the "Many Worlds" theorem states that when there is an event that has more than one possible outcome, and each having an equal chance of happening, the universe splits. Everything that could happen does happen, just in it's own universe that was created as a result of the event. Now I was really starting to get messed up as I had two problems with this theory. First, if matter and energy were being divided up every time the collision of two particles couldn't make up their minds, then we would eventually be divided out of existence. Second, I had a problem with the possibility that another universe existed with another me running around without panic attacks, more money and everything else I didn't or couldn't have in this universe. I had to come up with an understanding that was acceptable to me, regardless if it was right or wrong. I knew I was not going to be able to come up with a scientific explanation, fact or mathematical solution that could support my answer. If you have forgotten, I'm a dropout. The answer I was looking for was for me and my peace of mind only.

And here is what I came up with.

Every event has only one outcome regardless of how many possible outcomes could equally happen. At the instant that the event happens something effects the outcome and directs it to only one of the possible results and not all of them. How can I support this in my own mind? Well, the universe is infinitely as big as it is infinitely small. We are still theorizing that smaller particles exist beyond the ones we know about and that those particles may exist in multiple states as well as being shared by multiple dimensions. There is even a principle developed from the unpredictably of some elemental particles call the "Uncertainty Principle". If we are unsure if smaller particles exist and how they act then we can not be sure of the roll they play in determining the results of any event. One result and one universe. Now I was back to just one of me and all the positives and negatives of my existence were mine alone.

This led me in another direction that is relevant to how I view time. Time is recorded by the completion of every event whether or not that event is in the subatomic world or in our day to day world as we know it. Our past is a dotted line of completed events stretching from the creation of the universe to our present. Our present is a finite point at the top of that line where all events are triggered and are completed. The future is a line (with a slight curvature) that is perpendicular to our past and present. Where they meet is where all the events happen. Our future is full of an infinite number of possible outcomes to an infinite number of events. If I were to put a visualization to how I view time, I would say it would look like an umbrella, without the hook handle, that has had it's canopy blown to an inverted position.

So how did this help me? Well, it made me realize that my past, where all my regrets and broken dreams exist, is just that...

My past.

The idea that I lived multiple lives until I got it right, was dead. I lived just one life and I can do nothing to change the outcome of any of the events that have already been completed any more than I could accurately predict the outcome of events that are in my future. I can, however influence events in my present and effectively point myself in the direction of future events that have favorable outcomes.

I can live and dream again.

Yes, I know, it's confusing. It was and is for me as well. But, although I didn't realize it at the time, I now had the answer to all my questions and concerns. The answer was not going to help me at that point as I still had to come to an understanding and an awareness of what was wrong with me in the first place.

AND...

Unfortunately things became worse and I was experiencing major and traumatic panic attacks again, with more regularity. I started to avoid situations where I experienced major attacks. I could not practice darts anymore. I couldn't hold my children when we were on a floor of a building where there was a railing and nothing but air and ground on the other side of the railing. I stopped painting. This is a natural and common response to anything that has injured us. If you burned yourself on a stove chances are you will never put yourself in the same position to get burned ever again. We learn from experience plain and simple, and now I found myself limiting my life and the things I was willing to do and the places I was willing to go, in fear that it might trigger another attack.

The problem lay in my inability to be able to distinguish the difference between reality and my own imagination.

I could no longer stand to be around people as I wasn't sleeping and I had a short fuse. I also couldn't stand to be alone in silence as thoughts of isolation would trigger another panic attack. Another attack that I was less and less willing to bare. I found some comfort in gambling, more specifically, poker. I could go to a poker room any time of the day or night and sit in silence with a small group of people. My brain would become preoccupied with trying to figure out the intricacies of the game, from calculating pot odds, to how many outs I had for a hand that was beat on the flop. Problem was I didn't stick to just poker. I lost a lot of money gambling on other things. Nothing like piling on. Again, money would fix everything right? Maybe someday if I'm on a TV talk show I'll get into it a little more but for now all I will say is that I have been in financial difficultly more than once because of it. Not solely because of it, but it played a part.

I could not calm or silence my mind any longer and that made every day more difficult to get through. Playing poker I could just sit and watch and nothing else would be in my mind except the game. When I played darts I could always focus for those few seconds it took to throw my darts and call on the calm and silence. Nothing would enter my mind. I could no longer find that center and I no longer tried as I was afraid of what might be there waiting for me.

Chapter Five - Breaking point

Without my wife and children I can honestly say that I would not be alive today. One night I had just finished having an attack and I had decided that I could not live through another one. I had our yellow extension cord in my hands. I stared at the telepost that supported the floor joist. I could tie off the cord through one of the holes in the post, loop it over the joist, a simple slip knot and it would be over. I knew I wouldn't flail as I wouldn't fight it. The cord never got out of my hands. I started to think of all the reasons I couldn't kill myself in my own house.

What if one of my kids found my lifeless body? I allowed myself to feel the sheer terror that they might feel at seeing their father's lifeless body hanging motionless and limp.

I was starting to have another panic attack. Waves of anxiety were passing over my body.

What if my wife found me? Again, I could feel the panic she might feel as she screamed and tried to get my body loose from the extension cord.

I was in full panic attack now.

How can I ever be sure my family is okay if I'm dead?

"They're fine at this moment, I have my visual cues. I was up there a while ago and they're fine."

How can I ever be sure I didn't do anything if I'm dead?

"What if I black out? What if I did something?"

My breathing had become heavy and very fast paced.

"You saw them in bed. They're fine." I said to myself.

"What if I blacked out?"

"What if I hurt my wife and kids?"

"Look at your hands."

"No blood."

"There would be blood if you did anything."

"SOMETHINGS WRONG!"

"What if I blacked out?"

"LOOK AT YOUR HANDS!"

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Stay in control."

"Breathe."

"I need more cues."

"I NEED THEM NOW!"

"I HAVE TO MAKE SURE THEY'RE OKAY!"

And I bolted up the stairs.

I was at the top of the first flight of stairs with one strong step half way up. I gripped the railing with my right hand and allowed my momentum to swing my mass around the corner. I was out of step by this point and scrambled up the second flight and came busting though the door to the main floor. I spun to stare down the hall, trying frantically to focus on the open door to the master bedroom, to try and get visual evidence that everything was fine and everyone was okay. My wife was sitting up in bed. I had woken her and she was now anxiously asking "What's wrong?" "What is it?" "What's happening?"

I stood there silently for a moment, visibly shaken. I was doing everything I could to keep myself from collapsing right at that moment. My hands where shaking and my body was vibrating as every emotion and every feeling continued to pour into my body. I can't truly convey what a severe panic attack feels like to someone who has never experienced one. If you can, try to imagine that you are in a situation where there is a very good possibility you could die or someone you love could die and you have no idea how to escape that outcome. There is no middle ground. There is no chance of a slight flesh wound that you could recover from. You escape or you die. No other outcome. Then you might have some idea of what people go through when they are battling this disorder.

I was still standing in the hallway. At this point during my battle with the disorder, my wife knew I had panic attacks but she was not aware of the severity, frequency or content of them.

"What's wrong?" she asked again.

"I need help," I replied

"I have to go to the hospital."

"I need help," I repeated.

"I'll call my mother," she said.

She retrieved the phone from it's carriage and dialed her mother. I can't accurately recall the exact time but it had to be around 11:00 pm or so. By this time I was lying on my side in bed with my arms crossed tightly at my chest. As my wife was talking to her mother she was rubbing my back and trying to reassure me.

"you're going to be okay," she said.

"There's nothing wrong."

"you're going to be fine."

I was starting to regain control again and pull myself back into reality. I was still shaking but I was regaining control.

"Mom and dad can come over and watch the kids," she said.

"Do you still want to go?"

Foot note:

I am shaking right now as I am writing this. I am not having an attack or any symptoms that precede an attack. It is just very hard to write about this particular event and to put words to it.

I was regaining more and more control over my thoughts as my wife remained on the phone with her mother. I was concentrating on relaxing all of my muscles and pacing my breathing. I pushed every thought and every image out of my mind and focused on breathing and relaxing my muscles.

"No," I finally replied.

"I should be okay."

"Are you sure?" she asked

"Mom and dad can come over right away to sit with the kids and we can go to the hospital."

"No," I responded

"I'll be fine."

"I'll call someone tomorrow." I stated

"I'll try to get in to see someone tomorrow."

My wife finished up with her parents and hung up the phone. I was breathing with a more steady and calm pace. I was still in the same position in bed staring back down the hallway to where I was once standing gripped in fear. I asked my wife to leave the TV on so I could concentrate on the words coming from it.

After a while I found myself repeating the same thing over and over in my head.

"I would never hurt anybody."

"I'll kill myself first."

"I would never hurt anybody."

"I'll kill myself first."

I had no other options now. Get help or be dead in the very near future. I was unwilling to go through another panic attack as severe as that one.

Chapter Six - Getting help

The very next morning I searched the yellow pages. I phoned a few psychiatrists but none would see me without a referral from a psychologist. What's the difference? The former is a medical doctor who can write prescriptions and physically crack you open and rewire you. The latter tries to help you rewire yourself and if they are unable to do so they would refer you to a psychiatrist. So, I continued my search to find a psychologist who would see me on short notice.

I found one.

During the initial call she asked what the problem was and asked if an appointment the following week would work. I quickly told her that I could not wait that long as I felt I could not deal with another panic attack. I think she heard the urgency in the tone of my voice as she made a spot available for me that evening. I think it was for that evening. Could have been the following night but it was fairly quick away. It takes a lot of effort to recall anything relative to time during this part of my life. Every attack seemed like and eternity that had no end in sight.

I remember walking up to the building where her office was. It was an older building, located downtown, that had been renovated to a professional building. It possibly could have been an apartment building at one time. If you were inside the building and looking out a window on it's south side you could see down into the river valley and further out over the south end of the city. Walkways and benches, where one could sit and think, could be found meandering along the top edge of the river valley on both sides.

As I approached the building I stopped and turned to go back to my car. I then turned and looked back in the direction of the building. For a moment I was caught between three fears. One, having to deal with more panic attacks. Two, knowing I would have to let my guard down and break the dam that held my emotions in check. At the very least I would have to release some of the pressure that the weight of those emotions were exerting upon that dam. Three, I would have to share with her points and experiences in my life that I have been fiercely guarding for a very long time. I'm a man, an emotionally and psychologically scared one, but a man nonetheless. I'm not weak and I can deal with this myself. These are my secrets and mine alone to keep. I thought about my fears for a moment and decided that it was two against one.

More panic attacks vs Man and My Secrets.

I started out towards my car to leave. I took two steps and stopped as fear four and five came to me.

Four, a panic attack that I could not hold in check and resulted in me taking my own life. Five, my family's well being. I'm a man and I have to take care of them and I couldn't do that if I didn't take care of myself first. Fear five trumped all the others and it was now three against two in the other direction and as a result I turned and went into the building to keep my appointment. I was full of fear and apprehension but I could not let any of that stop me.

I needed help.

I came to the third floor and found the door to her office. I stood there for a moment and then took a deep breath and exhaled before entering. The first room was a waiting area with a few places to sit and a coffee table that had a few magazines spread out on top of it. Just as I sat down an reached for a magazine, the door to the next room opened and a female psychologist exited with the person she was counseling. She looked over at me and said "You can go in and have a seat Ron, and I'll be right with you." As I passed both of them I noticed the person she had been counseling still had some tissue crumpled up in their left hand.

I entered the adjoining room and she closed the door behind me. I could hear muffled voices as she continued her conversation with her departing client. The room was unassuming with a moderate light level, which is understandable. There were some small pieces of art in the room, both paintings and ornaments. To the right I noticed a folded up floor mat that was leaning against the wall. To the left there were two chairs facing each other, with a coffee table between them, next to a window. "Hmm" I thought to myself "No couch." There was no question as to which chair I was expected to sit in. On the coffee table was a box of tissues closer to one chair than the other, and a box of tissues on the window sill next to it as well. "Great," I thought to myself again "She's going to make me cry." I sat in the chair surrounded by tissue boxes and nervously interlaced my fingers and I placed my hands in my lap. I was staring out the window trying to anticipate what was soon to come. Moments later she entered the room and sat down across from me. "So you're having panic attacks?" she asked and stated at the same time. "Can you tell me a little about them?"

Chapter Seven - Release

I was quite surprised as to how long I held it together. It had to be at least 7 – 10 minutes before I was reaching for the box of tissues to wipe away the few tears that snuck through my defenses. I had spent a great deal of time and effort hiding my problems for many years. There were only a few times that my exterior appearance betrayed me but I was able to explain those times away as being sick with the flu or a cold. When my eyes became dark and bags started to form underneath them I would explain it away as just having a little insomnia. That had some truth to it. I wasn't sleeping. Not because I wasn't able to but because I was afraid to.

So there I was in a silent struggle as I tried to put words to what I was experiencing. Every time I started to explain what I was feeling and what I was experiencing I could feel the rush of emotions starting to burst through the dam that held them back, and I would stop talking. I found myself frantically trying to reinforce the dam and regain my composure as I stared at my hands and fidgeted with the tissue I held, periodically wiping away a few more tears that ran down my face. Once I felt ready, I started out again only to find my breathing becoming choppy and my words doing the same. I was battling myself on two fronts now. On one hand I was trying to keep things together emotionally, but I knew that wouldn't last. On the other, I was struggling with my apprehension about being there in the first place.

Finally, I let go and it came out. I'm sure it was difficult to understand me as I stuttered and stammered, and tried to convey what was happening to me. My breathing was irregular and I had to stop from time to time to concentrate on it's pace and try and take a few deep, cleansing breaths. Do I need to mention the tears and the crying? I'll try to be a little poetic. The dam that held my emotions in check now laid in rubble at my feet and the reservoir of emotion had all but been emptied.

HAPPY! - Yes, I cried.

A lot. A much needed release.

I never had anyone to really talk to since I was thirteen. I have been pretty much on my own since I was fifteen. For many years leading up to this point I had no family close by. Even if I had family around I would not have shared anything with them. I learned early on that it was not in my best interest to do so. You will understand why later in this book as I relate small potions of my life. I held everything in and it was closely guarded. There, in the chair, I was not strong enough to hold it in any longer.

Now my therapist knew what I was going through. I was kind of vague in regards to certain points but she had the idea. I was afraid of losing control and blacking out and hurting people around me, or finding them hurt and I wasn't around to stop it from happening. These thoughts would always be accompanied by or would trigger a panic attack. At the end of my first session she reassured me that I was not going crazy and that I didn't need to see a psychiatrist. She pulled out her appointment book and scheduled more sessions. To start off it would be two meetings per week and then tapering off to one per week. Once she penned in my name in the open time slots she closed the book and leaned back.

I wasn't happy about coming back and letting my guard down over and over again. Take away the fact that I'm a man and I had the belief that I didn't need help as I should be able to deal with this myself. There were also the feelings of embarrassment that I was that weak, that I needed help, and the shame of having these types of thoughts that I knew in my heart and mind, were wrong.. I also had the misplaced belief that I was the only one in the world suffering from this disorder and I had to keep it secret. This disorder not only breeds a mental feeling of isolation but a physical one as well. Remember what I said? I spent a great deal of time and effort hiding this disorder and it's a lot easier to conceal it when you're alone than in a group of people.

My therapist closed the session by pointing out that my panic attacks were only my body's way of telling me that what I was thinking was wrong, and that I was not capable of hurting anyone. As we stood up and headed toward the exit she also stated that I should not have anymore panic attacks. Out of habit I quickly gathered my visual cues. Cues I used to keep a grip on reality during a panic attack.

I said good bye and see you in a few days. Check, cue one.

Someone was sitting in the waiting room. Check, cue two.

Office door closing and heard them taking.

Check, cue three!

Good to go.

Keep that last statement she made as I left her office, in mind for a while. I'm going to be referring to it in a short time.

With my eyes now blood shot and puffy I proceeded out of the building. When I reached the sidewalk I stopped and looked around. It was now dark outside and the lights from the building and the street lamps cast shadows in various directions. There wasn't much activity around since the building was a few blocks in from the main thoroughfares. As I looked to my right I could see a significant amount of traffic passing through the downtown core a few blocks away. I took a deep breath and exhaled. The weight of the world was a little lighter. There was a core of calmness in me. No matter how small it was, it was still there. Something I had not felt in a very long time, and with it came a little bit of hope.

I crossed the street to the parkade, started my car and headed for home. Needless to say the radio was on and tuned into a local talk radio station. I listened to music once in awhile but it was easier to concentrate on the voice of a talk show host than it was on music, during a panic attack. Especially the type of music I like to listen to. I got to the main thoroughfare and turned right and there it was.

DEJA VU!

"Something bad has happened."

"Something happened back at that office."

"I can't remember anything happening."

"Did I black out?"

The adrenaline was starting to flow. The fight or flight response was taking over again.

"She lied!"

I was in a full panic attack now.

Check one. I said good bye.

Check two. Person sitting.

Check three. They were taking as I left.

Everything was fine except for the fact that she LIED!

I ran through the checks again. Check one. Check two. Check three. Nothing happened, everything is fine. "Breathe" I thought to myself. "Pace your breathing and get it under control." Within a few minutes I had the attack under control. With it came the realization that there was still a problem and it wasn't going to be fixed with one session. Over the next couple of days I had a few more attacks. The intensity of each one varied but they were all controllable. I accepted the fact that the attacks were not going to stop and I had to continue with the sessions my therapist had booked.

Chapter Eight - Back in the chair

I can say my life hasn't been easy. Don't get me wrong. I also know it wasn't difficult, but it hasn't been easy. I do understand that there are a great number of people struggling with problems every single day that would make what I have gone through look like an amusement park. But remember what I said earlier. "Panic attacks don't discriminate." We may all start out in different places but the attacks take us all to the same dark and lonely place where we are surrounded by our ultimate fears. It was this place that I had to pull myself out from.

I'm going to be brief as I relate to you what was discussed over my sessions with my therapist. I will expand on a few things but I don't want to bore you with everything, as we basically discussed my whole life. I want this book to be a helpful source and a reminder that you are not alone and there are other people suffering from this disorder as well.

Over the next few weeks we got right into my life. It sounds simple enough. Relate the facts and be as truthful and forthcoming as possible with events in my life. I found myself reaching for more tissues on many occasions during these sessions. Not as simple as it sounds. The easy part was discussing the things that bothered me in my day to day life. Having no money and struggling to get from paycheck to paycheck and not always making it. Realizing that gambling wasn't helping things. I had the pressures and responsibilities of providing for my young family and I was failing in that task. The difficult part was discussing the things that bothered me from my past.

I had always been able to reassure myself that sooner or later things would get better, memories would fade and the future had better things is store for my family. I could no longer do that as the panic attacks had distorted those hopes and stolen my dreams. In order to have hope you have to be willing to dream. Unfortunately our dreams are very specific, and when things start to unfold in a way that is not consistent or in line with our dreams, we start to lose hope that they will ever happen, and then we abandon them.

To dream you also have to sleep and that was something I just was not doing or not doing properly. As I explained to my psychologist, I slept but I was rarely in a deep sleep. My eyes were shut but I was always aware of the things going on around me. The smallest sound or movement of a shadow would have me opening my eyes to see what was going on. This could explain why I suffered from sleep paralysis. As I mentioned earlier in this book, when I did fall into a deep sleep my conscious mind would realize it and I would force myself to wake up, but sometimes more quickly than my body was able to wake up, thus causing the paralysis. I also always made sure my bed was in a position so that when I was lying down I could see down the hallway at any given moment. I had to see what was coming and I had to have as much time as possible to identify it and react to it. I am not sure why I had to have it that way but that was the way it had to be.

As the sessions continued I started to get a little more comfortable and a little more willing to share the events of my life. I found myself sitting silent from time to time during the sessions and staring out the window in thought. I was trying to piece together events and the order that they happened or I was just taking a moment to collect myself so I could continue. I started by staring at what was outside the window but eventually found myself staring at the reflection that stared back. I was still holding onto a lot of anger and a lot of sorrow.

I held onto the pain of my father's death. The last months of his life were spent in the hospital, dying of cancer. I went to see him every day. My visits could be fifteen minutes or two hours but I was there everyday. My sister didn't make that kind of commitment and he would ask me where she was and why she hasn't come to visit lately. I made that commitment and went every day to see him, except for one.

I was eighteen years old at the time and the day he died I was at a company function and had a few drinks. I smelled of beer and didn't think it would be appropriate to go and see him in such a state. That evening he passed away and I wasn't there to hold his hand. The hospital had old phone numbers and could not contact anyone. As a result the following day I went to the hospital to spend some time with him and found someone else in his room. A few days later he was cremated and his ashes were sent to the Arctic, to be spread around where he had worked as a camp cook. To this day I still cannot afford to put up a memorial plaque with his name on it. Someday I will, and I know when that day comes it will finally put those feelings of shame and regret, that I still carry, to rest.

I was also still angry at my mother. After my parents had separated we spent a lot of time moving from place to place, never giving us time to settle in. When she needed a break she dropped my sister and I off to live with our aunt and uncle for a year. I thank her for that because it provided us with a stable home environment for a short period of time. During that year she found herself a new husband and moved us to live with them.

I am a smart ass. I always have been and I always will be. In the first few days of living with my mother and her new husband I pushed a few too many buttons and he threw a knife past my head and stuck it in the wall behind me. My sister and I froze for a moment in fear while our mother did and said nothing. He also got a kick out of hitting me in the back of the head as I turned away from him. Sometimes hard enough to blur my vision for a short period of time. When I finally snapped and told my mother I couldn't take it anymore and that I was going to kill him or myself, she found a need to tell him. This only made things worse for me. More importantly it was the second time she chose herself and her situation over my sister and I. That was not the last time either. But I learned to deal with it, and the other things she had a habit of doing.

From the time I was a small child my mother would cry about her life and tell us that she was going to kill herself. Even after I was married the phone calls with her crying and threats of suicide continued. Whether or not she intended to actually carry out the act didn't matter. Every time she made the threat I was filled with the same fear and anxiety that I felt as a child. It was my therapist who told me how to deal with them.

"The next time she calls in this state" my therapist started,

"Tell her that you are not going to play this game with her."

As I sat in the chair listening intently, my therapist continued. "Tell her that you love her and to call you back when she has calmed down."

When the call finally came I changed the approach a little bit. As usual my mother started crying and going on about how everyone would be better off if she just wasn't around. It didn't take long before I stopped her and said "I don't want to hear about it. If you want to kill yourself go right ahead. If you don't kill yourself, I don't want you calling here like this again as I will not be willing to listen. I refuse to put up with this type of talk any longer and I refuse to expose my family to it. If you're still around tomorrow you can give me a call and we'll talk about something but I don't want to hear this type of talk from you again." I then said goodbye and hung up the phone. She has never called me in that state again. She wines a little bit, but that I can deal with.

That is one key to overcoming this disorder. We allow people to have control over us in a manner that is unhealthy to our own mental well-being. We are afraid of what they might think of us or we are afraid of hurting their feelings. What we fail to realize is that this type of control over us actually lies in our own hands. They only have as much control as we allow them to have. You have to let people know where your boundaries are and let them know when they cross those boundaries. My mother knows where her boundaries are with me now. She didn't like it at first, and thought that she should come before other people in my life. She soon came to understand that her position of importance in my life was cultivated by the choices she made in her life. If she wanted to be a part of my life then she would have to respect those boundaries and accept her position of importance, or not be apart of my life at all.

Chapter Nine - Mine alone

I don't recall how many sessions I had to this point. I was down to one meeting a week and my attacks, although still occurring, happened less frequently. The last couple of conversations seemed to be repetitive and my therapist decided to take things in another direction.

I showed up at her office at the usual time. I sat in the chair I have been sitting in for weeks on end and looked out the window until she came into the room. The usual questions and answers opened the session.

"How are you?" she would ask.

"Good" I would answer.

"I had a couple of attacks. Not severe."

And then the question came.

"Have you ever been sexually abused?" she asked.

I turned my head and stared out the window.

Yes, these blank pages are suppose to be here. They represent what was going through my mind as I stared out the window.

Nothing.

In an instant I had pushed everything out of my mind. After a short time I thought to myself, "This is no longer fun and I don't think I want to be here anymore." I pondered the question for a little while longer, realizing I couldn't escape answering it.

And then..... I lied.

"Nope" I replied. "Nothing like that ever happened to me."

I couldn't have been more transparent. I was shifting my weight in the chair, looking from the window to my hands as I fidgeted with air.

Remember the rubble of the dam that laid at my feet?

Well, I tripped over it.

I used the remnants of the dam and I built a wall. There was no way I was going to answer this question truthfully. I was shutting down and shutting out. Everything positive and all the progress I had made in all the previous meetings was cast aside in a single second. This was my secret and mine alone to keep!

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Take some time to think about it."

I took a few more minutes to think about it. I was visibly uncomfortable and agitated but I held to my initial response.

"Nope" I replied again. "Nothing like that happened,"

I want to take a moment to say something to the person responsible for abusing me.

"I know who you are and I remember what you did. Know that I struggled with that memory all my life and for years the images visited me everyday. For now, I have only shared the fact that I was abused and the rest of the facts I have put in my "some secrets are mine to keep" file. Some day I might bring everything to light or maybe I won't. I will leave you guessing as to when that day will be and if it will ever come."

With that said.....

It was evident that she didn't believe my answer, or that I was denying such an experience happened because I may have blocked it from my memory. She continued to try to coax something out of me.

"Everything that you are exhibiting is consistent with someone who has been abused. A lot of the times people who can't recall such an experience were usually threatened, in one way or another, to keep silent about it."

We sat in silence for a moment and then she continued.

"I want you to take a few more moments to think about it. Search your memories to see if anything is there."

During that time I reinforced the wall that I had built in haste.

"There is nothing" I finally replied. "I remember everything in my life. Every event happy or sad and no such event happened."

"Okay" she replied. "If it's alright with you I would like to try some relaxation therapy with you."

"Sure" I replied.

She gestured to the mat that was folded up and leaning against the wall. She explained how I was to lie on my back, on the mat, and start to relax all the muscles in my body. As I lay there listening to her voice telling me to relax my muscles and to let the tension go, I could only think of one thing.

How much time was left in this session?

Once I was at a point where I appeared relaxed she started asking some questions.

"What do you see?" she asked.

"Nothing" I replied. "Everything is just white with a black line going through the center".

She tried to get me to interpret what the black line was but...... Come on! I told you I thought I was a very logical and analytical person. I knew the whole time that the white was from the fluorescent light and the black line was her shadow that was cast as she hovered over me. But I played along none the less. Also, I feared being out of control and there would have been no way that I would have allowed myself to get to a point where I was not in control of my mind. I gave nothing up. I was behind my wall and that's just where I was going to stay.

After awhile we sat back down in our respective chairs and she pulled out her appointment book as the session was coming to an end. She wrote a few things down and closed it up and placed it in her lap with her hands coming to rest on top of it.

"I think we're done" she said.

This was unusual as we normally ended our meetings with "Have a good week" or "See you next week", but never "I think we're done." I was a little taken back by what she said as I knew exactly what it meant.

"You have five appointments left" she continued. "I think it would be best if we saved them for a later date just in case you need them."

She knew that something was still wrong and any further sessions would only be wasted if I was not willing to talk about it. She also knew that sooner or later I would have to talk about it and I would be back in to see her. As I said earlier in this book there is always something at the core of the panic attacks. Something that everything else tethers itself to.

An anchor.

I knew what my anchor was now but I was unwilling to speak it aloud. Speaking it out loud would give life to it and I would have to admit that it had happened. I elected to do what I have always done with this memory since I was a small child. I pushed it to the back of my mind and I left her office mistakenly believing that I would be fine and that I was strong enough to deal with the rest of my issues myself.

I'm a man... Remember?

Chapter Ten - I can't do it alone

The following week or so I had an appointment with our family doctor for a general physical. At the end of the examination she asked me "Is there anything else?"

"Well" I replied "I have been experiencing panic attacks. I have been seeing a psychologist for them and it has helped but they continue to happen."

"What did they have to say about the attacks?" she asked skeptically.

"Well" I hesitantly started. "She said I wasn't going crazy and that I didn't need a psychiatrist."

"Really?" she replied.

I quickly explained what was happening to me and how long I have been experiencing panic attacks. I told her that they haven't been happening with the same regularity as they once did but their severity has been increasing again.

She was writing in my medical history folder when she looked up at me and asked,

"Do you drink?"

"No" I replied with a small chuckle. "I have the occasional beer but nothing excessive."

"How about drugs?" she asked.

"No." I replied with a louder chuckle.

"You already have enough problems" she stated on my behalf.

Fact was I feared losing control and blacking out. If I used drugs and alcohol excessively there would be a possibility that I lost control and blacked out. So I avoided both. I didn't tell her that I gambled in place of using drugs and alcohol, and gambling is no less damaging.

"A lot of people who suffer from this disorder develop an addiction to one or the other or even both." she continued.

I think we all can understand why someone would chose to use drugs and alcohol to help mask their problems. It was my fear of losing control and blacking out that stopped me from going down that road. With a father who was an alcoholic and a brother who was a drug addict, I had first hand knowledge of what both could do to you.

As she pulled out her prescription pad and began to write on it she continued talking.

"There are a few things you can do to help ease the attacks and possibly limit their frequency" she said. "First, avoid some of the known triggers such as caffeine and wheat. Other triggers you will have to figure out for yourself by tracking what you're eating and drinking and cut them out if you think they could be a trigger."

She paused for a moment to peel off the top sheet of her prescription pad and passed it to me.

"I'm giving you a prescription for an antidepressant" she continued. "Take these for a while and if you feel you're doing better you can reduce the dosage."

She also pointed out that, after work or on weekends, I should be wearing more relaxed clothing. This sends a signal to your body that it's time to relax and your brain will follow. This was something I was already doing.

"The next time you have a problem don't wait so long to come and see me" she scolded and she reached to open the door. Shaking her head she made one last comment as we exited the examination room. "You guys" was all she added.

I had the prescription filled and went home. This was a drug and one that does affect your brain. What do you think I did? I didn't throw the pills out but I locked them up in our medicine cabinet with no intention of ever taking them. I had to stay in control of all my thoughts and this drug could take that control away. I couldn't chance that.

Important side note

If a medical doctor prescribes you something, you should take it as prescribed. If it wasn't going to help they would never have given it to you in the first place. If you have questions or concerns about what they are giving you, make sure you discuss those concerns with your doctor. Don't do what I did.

Things didn't get any better for me. I was doing everything I could to stop the attacks from occurring. I was drinking decaffeinated coffee. Blah! I was drinking caffeine free pops. Yuk! I consumed less milk and ate less wheat products. I cut my hair fifteen different ways. I grew a mustache and shaved it off. I grew a goatee and shaved it off. I occupied my mind by reading. I did everything I could to quiet my mind and reorder my thoughts.

I even began to pray.

This is kind of hypocritical for a person who views himself as a logical and analytical person, and as such I had two conflicting beliefs. I struggled with Creationism because I could not ignore the facts of evolution and Darwinism. How was I going to marry both those beliefs so that they both were acceptable to me and allow me to pray with meaning? As I said before, it doesn't matter if it is right or wrong but only that it was acceptable to me.

The other problem was the fact that I was, and still to this very day, a non practicing catholic. I prayed only periodically and I would never ask for anything for myself when I did pray. I just couldn't justify it. A belief in a God has to have more substance than an acceptance of his existence because of Pascal's wager.

I don't want to get too much into my religious beliefs because everyone has their own belief and it's a very personal subject. I will say that I think it is important that everyone believes in something because it provides a certain level of comfort in life and is a source of strength during difficult times. Hope is found in one's faith and faith can help them through their most desperate times.

With that said... I will try to be brief...

I believe in a God and those beliefs have their fundamentals rooted in the Roman Catholic religion. I have read the bible and have sat through mass a countless number of times. Nowhere does it say that God created man in his own physical image. It says he created man in his own image but it does not say in his "physical" image. There are many things in the bible that are not meant to be taken literally and this could be one of them. Who can honestly say that we didn't evolve over millions of years and at some point God blessed us with a soul, a soul he created in his own spiritual image?

This is as far as I will go in regards to my religious beliefs in this part of my book. If you are interested, I did include a chapter called "The Hidden Track" at the end of this book where I expand on those beliefs a little bit. Funny thing is that a couple of years later I heard a local radio personality express their opinion along the same line of reasoning. I was not the only one to think that this was a plausible explanation that allowed both Creationism and Darwinism to coexist. It was acceptable to me and that's all that mattered.

I could now pray for myself.

Constantly changing my appearance, watching what I ate and finding a source of strength helped, but the attacks didn't stop. Sometimes I was able to catch and stop the attacks when the feelings of déjà vu started, and sometimes I couldn't. My anchor was pulling me under, again. I knew that sooner rather than later, I had to make the call and get back in to see my psychologist and tell her the truth.

I was not strong enough to deal with this on my own.

Chapter Eleven - Round two – in the chair

A year or so had passed when I made the call to my psychologist to get in to see her again. Everything that I had tried had failed to stop my panic attacks. This was my last hope and I had to answer her last question truthfully if I wanted to have a chance at getting better.

To say I was nervous when I entered her office would be an understatement. From the time I made the appointment to the time that I was sitting in the chair in her office, a thousand scenarios on how the conversation would go went through my head. This was a secret I had held since I was a small child and now I was going to finally tell someone. What would the ramifications be for me? Where would I start?

In the end the moment led itself.

"How have you been?" she asked

"Pretty good" I said "I'm still having panic attacks. Not as often, but they are still there."

The conversation went on for a while as I updated her on everything that had been going on in my life since our last meeting. What followed was a few moments of silence as I considered the direction that I wanted our conversation go. I leaned back in the chair as I took a deep breath and crossed my arms almost in a defiant posture.

This was my secret and mine alone to keep.

After what seemed like an eternity I exhaled and leaned forward resting my forearms on my thighs. I stared down at my hands and absently picked at my fingernails as I was lost in thought. Forcing myself to continue the conversation I leaned back in the chair once again, crossing my arms more so for comfort than anything else, and I began to speak.

"In one of our last meetings you asked me a question that I did not answer truthfully" I stated. "you asked if I had ever been sexually abused."

I waited a moment for a response that did not come. She was going to make me say it whether I liked it or not. I realized the importance of why she waited for me to continue with no interruption. I had to verbalize it and by doing so I would be acknowledging the reality of the event. It would also bring a lot of emotions to the surface that I would have to deal with. The event and the emotion would no longer live in the darkest recesses of my mind.

I understood the importance but I didn't have to like it.

"I was" I finally said. "I couldn't have been more than four or five years old at the time. I don't remember anything that was said. I remember the incident but I don't recall any words".

I was vary vague with my description. Prior to the meeting I had decided that the admission was more important than the facts. Admitting it aloud was a huge step as it was, and I was sure I could deal with the specifics of the event myself. It may have delayed the healing but I would be on the road to recovery just the same.

As the discussion went on the emotions that I had buried with the memories were starting to come to the surface. I was visibly upset. My eyes had become blood shot as I tried to maintain my composure. I stopped periodically to have a drink of water only to return to a position where my arms were crossed tightly at my chest as I tried contain everything I was feeling.

I was angry.

I was angry at the world. I was angry at myself. I was angry that I was in that chair and being forced to talk about my secret.

In my opinion hate is a core feeling. Many emotions are given life from hate, and anger is one of those emotions. If you suppress any emotion your subconscious will try to release it during situations where the same emotion becomes elevated. It tends to multiply that emotion's intensity level far beyond what is called for. When I got angry things got broken.

I'm not a raging lunatic that walked around smashing the hell out of everything when I got a little upset. I just got quiet and walked away from the situation clenching my fists and grinding my teeth. Sometimes, when I was out of everyone's site, I would "vent" on something. Never really releasing my anger, but releasing just enough to put the cap back on the bottle.

If I was a betting man, and I am, I would wager that this is a very good explanation as to why I had sudden explosive panic attacks out of the blue. I knew in my heart and in my mind that I could never strike out at someone in pure anger. It was pure anger that I was suppressing and the weight of it was more than my subconscious was willing and able to bare. When it overflowed the limits of my subconscious it would manifest itself as images of violent acts. It was the anger that I did everything I could to hide and to restrain while my subconscious did everything it could to force it out and into the open.

For many years I was winning this war. Until that one night my when subconscious decided to give me a little gift.

Waking nightmares.

The gift left me with two choices. Deal with things or be consumed by them. There was nothing else. It was either or and it had a time limit.

Simple. Right?

I was in the chair and I was angry..

But I was dealing with things.

Chapter Twelve - Will alone

I used up all but one session with my therapist. She thought it would be a good idea to keep one aside in the event that I required it sometime in the future. I thanked her for helping me and left her office for the final time. But that was not the end to the story.

I continued to have the periodic panic attack. They were not happening as often any more and they were not as severe as they had been, but they were still happening. I lived in fear every waking moment that a bad attack was just around the corner. Sometimes so much so that just the worry about having a severe attack would trigger a minor one. I had gone from one extreme to the other. In the beginning a large percentage of my panic attacks happened without warning while the remaining times the attacks were triggered by my own thought. At this point those roles had been reversed. The majority of my attacks now were being triggered by my over active mind. I was running out of options and hope that I would ever get better. How could I defeat myself and survive?

One night as I lay awake in bed, with the television on in the background, I felt an attack coming on. I got out of bed and went to the washroom where I had locked away the pills that my doctor had given me for depression. I stood there in the washroom, with the door locked, trying to convince myself to take one.

Important Side note - again

If a medical doctor prescribes you something you should take it as prescribed. If it wasn't going to help they would never have given it to you in the first place. If you have questions or concerns about what they are giving you, make sure you discus those concerns with your doctor. Don't do what I did.

I held the bottle of pills in my left hand and took the lid off with my right. I turned the bottle to an angle where I could see it's contents and stared at the little red pills for a moment. I was confronting one of my fears. The fear of losing control of my mind. I couldn't chance that. I had to be in control and fully aware to maintain that control. These pills could take that control away.

I looked at myself in the mirror while still holding the open bottle of pills in my left hand and it's lid in the other.

"You don't have a weak mind" I thought to myself.

"You can defeat this."

"You're stronger than this."

"I'm stronger than this" was my last thought as I poured the contents of the pill bottle into the open toilet. There they sat at the bottom of the bowl. The pills were something that could help me but came with a risk, one that I was unwilling to take. If it was the right decision or the wrong one it really didn't matter anymore as they were not retrievable now. I reached for the toilet lever and flushed them away. I was going to continue to face my panic attacks with only the strength of my will to aid me. I'm stronger than this I repeated to myself in disgust.

I returned to bed and laid back down feeling like a crumbled mess as I tried to over come the panic attack I was currently in. The whole time I repeated "I'm stronger than this" over and over in my head. I let that become the only thought that resonated in my head and before I knew it the panic attack had passed and I was asleep.

Over the next year and a bit I continued to battle the attacks. Again, sometimes they came without warning but most of the time I triggered them. I had come to the realization that this was something that I would be dealing with for the rest of my life, how ever long that would be. I added an old statement that I would repeat over and over in my head during an attack. It was that promise to myself that I would kill myself first before I would hurt anyone around me. Not a very healthy statement but one that worked for me.

Every day I continued to search for that one thing that would end the panic attacks forever. I knew it wouldn't be found in an apology or in forgiveness. It would only be found in an understanding about life and my place in it. With what I told you in the last paragraph it is obvious that I was losing hope.

Then, one night, it happened.

A moment of clarity that hit me like a lightening bolt. It wasn't an understanding about life. It was more of an acceptance about how things are. From that night to this moment I have yet to suffer another panic attack.

It had been a very rough time leading up to the night my panic attacks stopped. Like many other families we were struggling just to get from paycheck to paycheck and most times falling short. We found ourselves relying on institutions, that we had supported in the past, to help us get through those few days when we did fall short of the next paycheck. I have no clue as to what we would have done without those institutions and the generosity of our families.

As a man, it was very tough to accept the fact that I needed help to support my family. Am I lucky to have such a support structure around me?

Yes. Of that there is no doubt.

I just hope that someday I can repay them.

Do I have to like it?

No. I'm a man and this is who we are.

I was very ashamed and embarrassed that I needed help to support my family. It is my job and responsibility to make sure that they have everything that they need to survive and I was failing in that charge. What made things even more bleak in my mind was that I saw no way out of the current situation. I held out no hope that things would get any better in the future.

I was trying to piece myself back together while everything was coming apart around me. But the end was near.

Chapter Thirteen - Out from the shadow

It was around 2:00 o'clock in the morning and I had gone outside for a cigarette. One last smoke before I tried to shut my eyes for the night. As usual, I stood at the top of the stairs in the front of the house that we were renting. The roof had an overhang at the front entrance that provided some protection from the elements. It didn't help much in the middle of winter but it did offer some shelter on those rainy days.

On one side of the stairs was a hand railing that ran up to the face of the house. A bush, around 6 foot tall, grew on that side and when I stood on the landing the top of that bush came up to my waist. On the opposite side of the landing was a wall where the house jutted out the length of the landing. On this side another bush, around 9 foot tall, grew tightly to the house and the stairs.

At night, the position of the street light would cause the house and the larger bush to cast a shadow across the landing. It was from within this shadow that I usually stood silently, as I was smoking, and watched the occasional car or pedestrian pass by. It didn't matter what time of the night it was, there was always something or someone passing by while I remained just out of their perception.

This night was different.

There was nothing passing by.

No cars in either direction.

No one approached on foot.

No dogs.

No cats.

Not even a cloud in the sky.

I stepped to the edge of the shadow to get a better view of the neighborhood. To my left I could see the stop lights switch on cue, to their timer, for traffic that was not there. Green, yellow, red and back to green again. I scanned the length of houses across the street. Not a single light was on. Everything seemed dead and I was the only one left in the world.

Alone.

Feeling isolated and small.

The "everything seemed dead" comment is a negative way to describe a world that was simply asleep and inactive. But at this point in my life I was not a "glass is half full" type of a guy. I wasn't even a "glass is half empty" type of a guy. My glass was a dribble glass where the contents only spilled out onto the front of my shirt and onto the ground at my feet. A cruel prank that someone had played on me.

In seconds a hundred thoughts and negative feelings went through my body and my mind as I felt the anxiety wash over me like the sensation of falling. Tension started to build in my legs and fear in my core. My breathing was becoming short and rapid. I did everything I could to control and pace my breathing to help hold back the building panic attack. But with every new thought and the building feeling of mortal fear, I was losing control.

I was alone and I had nowhere to run.

How was tomorrow going to be any different? I don't have the education or the resources to make an attempt at a better life.

I was alone and feeling hopeless.

There is nothing I can do to change my life. A life of road blocks and limitations while the world goes on around me.

I was alone and feeling small.

A wisp of smoke swept through my line of sight and rose up into the calm night air. I followed it for a moment and noticed the lights in the crystal clear sky. There wasn't a cloud in the sky which allowed more than the usual amount of stars to breech the city's lights and become visible to the naked eye. This wasn't good. If I was feeling alone and small before, this was not going to help.

My mind began racing. I had to change my thoughts.

Most of the lights are galaxies. How big is this galaxy that I am fixated on? The light that I am seeing could already be millions of years old because of the distance that it had to travel to get to this point. The light is a record of it's evolution. It exists in the same present that I do but all I can see is it's past. What about the galaxies that are on the edge of the universe. We can't see them because their light hasn't reached us yet. Where is the edge of the universe? To have a specific edge it has to have a specific size. How big is the universe? If it has a specific size then it has to have a place. Where is the universe?

This was getting out of control.

Here I was fighting back a panic attack while contemplating, not only my place and my existence in the universe but the place and the existence of the whole universe. I was on the edge of a complete break down right there in front of my house.

And then through the tangled mess of thoughts and feelings, in my head, a single calm thought came to the forefront.

"What does it matter?"

It wasn't a acknowledgment of defeat but a sudden realization.

Another thought followed.

"What is... is"

My breathing was quickly starting to return to normal. Even though I was physically shaking from the panic attack, I was completely calm inside. I want to be poetic and say something along the lines of "The calmness replaced the now receding tide of anxiety" but that would not be the truth. To recede is to withdraw over a period of time and this was not the case. It was just gone. The panic attack with all it's anxiety was there and a moment later it was gone. I was fighting and pushing against it and all of a sudden it wasn't there. Like opening a door that you expected would have some resistance but found none and the force that you used to open the door sent you flying through the opening off balance.

I stood there on the top of the stairs for a while longer. My shoulders had dropped as I was no longer holding the tension there. I was becoming relaxed. Something I never felt just out of the blue. I always had to work at it with meditation and even then it never lasted very long. I took a deep cleansing breath and slowly exhaled. I looked around the neighborhood and then to the sky.

"What is... is" I thought to myself again.

I focused on one point of light in the sky and then I realized that I didn't need to know why it was there or where it was going. The fact was it was there. It was there before I was born and it will be there long after I'm gone. Understanding it would not change those two basic facts. This was a realization that I could apply to everything I did not understand and everything that I feared. In that moment I was pulled to a place where I have not been since I was a child.

I was in the present.

Chapter Fourteen - What is... is

This is a tough one to explain because it was more than just the words that helped me. It was the feeling. As I said earlier, it was not the comprehension of the world around me that was important but the acceptance. If you cannot grasp this in a manner that you can understand then the words are what they are.

Just words.

Take a minute now and try it. Take a deep breathe and say to your self "what is.. is" and exhale. What is it that your doing right now? You are reading and doing one of the three things you are guaranteed to do in this life.

Breathing.

In this moment there is nothing else.

We spend a lot of time contemplating the "how" and "why" of self and self existence. When we can't find an answer or we can't see a solution we let it consume us because it is the unknown. It is in our genetic make-up to fear the unknown, and this is part of the reason as to why we have panic attacks. The "how" and "why" is what is different for everyone, from the very small "how" and "why" to the very big and complex "how" and "why". The problem is not in the asking of the questions but an inability to comprehend an answer or see a solution that best suits our understanding.

This results in stress building up within us and before we know it we find ourselves in a full blown panic attack with no idea how we got there. At the core of it all is the simple truth. A realization that you must make. A realization that pulled me out of that dark place. I don't have all the answers, I may never have all the answers and some things I can not possibly answer and that's...

**okay**.

Because even knowing would not change who I am or where I'm going from this moment.

Don't misunderstand what I am trying to say. I am not saying to accept your life the way it is because there is nothing you can do to change it. That couldn't be further from the truth. What I am saying is to accept things in your life for the way they are at this very moment because it's already in the past and there is nothing you can do to change the past. "What is, is". The next moment is where you need to effect change.

"If tomorrow isn't any different from today then there is no one to blame except myself."

I'm not any different from the majority of the population. Today I don't have a lot of money and chances are tomorrow might not be any different. I can't see it changing in the near future and that not only scares the hell out of me but it breaks my heart. How am I going to provide for my family and give them the things they deserve? Fact is they have what they need for the moment and they are not going without.

Only a couple of years ago my family had to utilize the local food bank to help get us to my next pay check. Things didn't look all that good and they still don't look all that great. But if I allow all the fear, doubt and self pity to consume me I would never have the ability to see possible solutions or take advantage of opportunities that present themselves. Instead I would be lost in the fog of terrifying panic attacks again.

Some other things I struggled with were questions about life in the context of our existence. These questions would be one of the triggers that would set off a small panic attack for me. It would then be followed by a much larger and more intense panic attack because I was not able to quiet my mind. I realized that I could not possibly answer these questions. Nobody alive today could answer these questions as "fact". The universe was here long before I came along and it will be here long after I'm gone. The fact is today the sun will rise and fall. If I don't understand why, that's okay. It will rise and fall again tomorrow whether I understand it or not. "What is... is."

I had to realize that the things that are fact, or events that are inevitable, I cannot change or escape. These things are not unique to me but impact the rest of the population in same way. Lets look at the one inevitability that we all become fixated on for a period of time.

Death

I cannot change or escape the fact that I am going to die one day. I have had countless panic attacks over how I was going to die and when I was going to die. The truth of the matter is that I am not in control of the "how" and "when". The fear I had of dying was in control and it fueled my panic attacks only to the level that I allowed it. This component of my disorder no longer caused anxiety because I was able to accept the fact that I was going to die and I was not going to escape it. As a result of this acceptance I no longer had panic attacks triggered by this particular fear. I can prolong my life in a number of different ways, but someday I will die just like everyone else and no amount of worry or fear will change that fact. "What is... is."

The last paragraph brings me to another aspect of "What is... is". The control factor. It's the feeling of not being in control that triggers our panic attacks and allows them to exist. If you strip away all the things in life that are relative to your existence you will find that there are actually very few situations that you are not in control of. We feel that certain situations and certain people have power over us but in actual fact any amount of control is only given by us. Believe it or not YOU ARE IN CONTROL of all aspects of your day to day life, and how people and situations influence you lies in your hands.

The following is a couple of examples that might better clarify what I am trying to say.

Being late for a family function always caused elevated tensions in my house. We always had to be on time because of the concern that we were holding everyone else up. People would be angry and dinner would start five minutes late all because we didn't show up on time. Really? It's nice to know that everyone's actions are solely dependent on my family's glorious arrival. This simply was not the case. If our family did not respect us enough to hold off on starting dinner then I do not want to go. Every single time it was not even a concern once we arrived and all the anxiety and tension that was created we created needlessly ourselves. Some might say "you have to go". Why? "Because they are family". This is not an excuse. If I am not comfortable with being in a situation then I simply will not put myself in that situation. I am in control and it is by choice and not by obligation that I choose to be anywhere.

Guilt is another tool that people use to control us or to bend us to their will. You cannot allow someone's actions or threat of intent to cloud your judgment. Just like you, they are in control of their own life and are responsible for their actions. I know it is very difficult and at times very painful to step back and to make that separation, but in order to have a clear view of how things truly effect us we need to take that step.

Taking a step back and making that separation is key to "What is... is." It allows us to strip away what is irrelevant so that we can identify what is relevant. In the end we cannot control the mechanics of the world around us or the actions of other people. We can control what path we take and who we choose to join us on our journey.

I can't guarantee that this is going to work for you. Chances are you will need to deal with a few other things first. What I can tell you is it worked for me. Once I was able to wipe the slate clean, even when I didn't have all the answers or solutions, I was able to feel relieved. I felt it as real as I felt the fear during my panic attacks.

"What is... is", exhale.

Chapter Fifteen - Where to begin

There are a lot of things you can do to start yourself on the road to recovery. First and foremost is to get yourself to a doctor or a psychologist. At the very least tell someone what your going through and you will find that some pressure, if not a great deal of pressure, will be lifted off your shoulders. If you let it go unchecked there is a strong possibility that you will develop other problems as well.

One of the first things I started to do was to preoccupy my mind when I started to feel the anxiety build inside me. I began to read. I spent time reading the sports section of the newspaper during the day. In the evening I engrossed myself in a series of books or worked on different ideas and designs. I tried to never give my mind a chance to be left to it's own devices. After awhile I was able to begin to refocus and reorder my thoughts as I learned to block or redirect the intrusive ones.

I also had to learn to relax and to let go of the tensions of the day. For as long as I can remember I would come home from work and never bother changing my clothes unless I was going somewhere. You may think that this is not a big thing but I believe that it is. By changing my clothes it seemed to signal my body that it was time to relax and that it was okay to let go of the tension built up from the day's work. If you are in dress pants put on some jeans and a t-shirt. If you are in jeans put on some shorts.

Try meditating while you are sitting on the couch, in a chair or even while you are lying in your bed. Start by concentrating on your breathing, and get it to a point where it is relaxed and constant. Once you reach that point, try to have the muscles in your toes relax. From there move up your body to your legs, then to your torso, and all the way to the top of your head. Finally, end up by focusing on the muscles in your neck and shoulders. The goal to this whole process is to regain control over your thoughts. As you are concentrating on your breathing and relaxing your body you need to be silencing your thoughts and blocking all the images that come into your head. It will not be easy the first few times that you try this, but just like everything else you will get better at it with practice. Eventually you will find your center and a calmness, and you need to hold this calmness for as long as you can.

Rest is also very important, and the toughest thing to do. Panic attacks strike even when you're asleep. This obviously disrupts your sleep and leaves you even more vulnerable to additional panic attacks with increased intensity. Just falling asleep in the first place was tough for me to do, because I was afraid where my thoughts might meander. It wasn't uncommon for me to be awake for a couple of days before sheer exhaustion would take me. I found that having a quick nap helped. I would come home from work and I would sneak in a half hour nap before dinner, or a slightly longer nap after dinner. It does not sound like a lot but it made a huge difference as it allowed me to feel less fatigued mentally and physically. It gave me even more strength to regain control of my thoughts and my sanity.

The things I mentioned in the first few paragraphs are just a few things that helped me to begin to conquer my panic attacks. The most important thing I can tell you, to help you over come your attacks, is to talk to someone. Once you get your anxiety and panic attacks to a point where you can somewhat control them, you can then start to understand how it operates within you. Remember that your explanation only needs to be acceptable to you.

We all have many different reasons as to why we suffer from panic attacks. Most of us have been abused either physically, mentally or sexually. Others just cannot or are unwilling to deal with their fear of uncertainty. These fears can be relative to finances or even death. Although the "uncertainty" factor was a component of my disorder, it was a by-product of my anxiety and not the cause.

I spent a great deal of time trying to understand my disorder. I pinpointed causes, identified triggers and even tried to understand it's basic structure. Knowing the causes and the triggers led me down the road to recovery, and understanding it's structure has kept me here.

I visualized the structure of my disorder like an inverted pyramid with many different levels. Every level contains a number of blocks that feed the intensity and length of my panic attacks. Each successive level is comprised of even more blocks that are directly related to the blocks in the level beneath it. In my opinion there are some components that are common between all of us and many that are unique me. All of us, however, exist at the upper most level surrounded by a countless number of blocks with no idea where it all begins and where it all ends. We constantly move between levels, where some days are good and some days are bad. We are unable to stay at a lower level because we are unable to solve the problems that will remove the blocks forever, but it is all of our ultimate goal to exist at the base of the whole structure. At the base is a single block that gives life to the rest of the structure. The next level up contains two more building blocks such as regret and fear.

Regret and fear are the two core elements to our panic attacks that we have the most difficulty with. Regret exists in the past and fear exists in the future. We become so fixated on our regrets and transfixed by our fears, we forget where we truly exist...

The present...

We are anticipatory creators. This is how we get through life and avoid danger. When we are presented with a situation we analyze it so we can be prepared to deal with it's eventual outcome. 99.9% of the time it is a harmless event. This is not unique to people who suffer from panic attacks but it is how everyone gets through life. What is unique is the fact that people with this disorder reason like everyone else but end up anticipating the worst.

Start to rationalize the situation around you during a panic attack. Ask yourself what is the actual possibility that the worst thing that could happen.... will happen? You will realize that it is unlikely that any harm will come to you, and there is no need to obsess about it in the first place. This is how you can begin to control your thoughts outside of your safety zone.

I want to touch on one last thing and that is forgiveness. Why must we forgive and move on? It is important that we voice our problems aloud so that they have a tangible aspect to them. Accepting the realty of the event is just as important as moving on. Forgiveness is another problem within itself. By forgiving before we are ready, we are accepting the responsibility to continue to carry all the emotions within ourselves. Put the responsibility for the emotions where it belongs and by doing so you will no longer carry them within you. Acknowledge the anger, acknowledge the sorrow, and forgive only when you are ready.

None of this is easy and you may have a long and difficult road ahead of you. I hope what I have shared with you can help in some way. When you are having a panic attack remind yourself that regret is in the past, and fear is in the future. I am in the present, and in this moment nothing is affecting me. Break life and problems down to their core components and learn to identify what is fact and what is logical. Things are not always as complex as they appear.

Always remember...

You are not alone.

The End.

Chapter Sixteen - The hidden track

I left this section for the end of my book because it quickly discusses a few points of my religious beliefs. I did not want to bring it up in the middle of the book because I understand that there are a great variety of beliefs in this world that differ from my own. I did not want to infringe on anyone's beliefs. SO! If you're not interested, thank you for reading this book. If you are interested, please continue, it will be quick.

As I had mentioned before my religious beliefs have their basics rooted in the Roman Catholic Church. Many of my relatives are catholic in one form or another and they all have their own opinion on how things should be interpreted. A few of those relatives enjoy expressing their beliefs to those who will listen. The problem I have with that has to do with the content of what they have to convey, while not taking into consideration who is in the room. Lets be honest here. The bible is full of many good and positive themes, but it also uses fear to keep it's followers in line. A fear of GOD.

I have an aunt who enjoyed discussing the end of the world and the coming of God. Even with small children around she would go on for hours. What can be more frightening to a child than hearing how a world, that they just entered, is going to end? How the earth will crack open and the dead will walk amongst the living? Of the two men in the field one will be taken and the other left alone? This is not something a child should hear. I could not fall asleep for months after the first time my aunt went on. If you got to preach to everyone at least have consideration for who is in the room. Children should hear about creation, and the love and kindness of God, and not his wrath. Set the example and they will follow. Don't scare the crap out of them as you may be scaring them for life and driving them away from any kind of religion completely.

"The end of the world will soon be upon us. Prepare". I am not sure that was meant to be taken in a literal sense. I tend to believe that statement was made to remind us that life is short and we could die at any time. Our average life span in relation to the estimated age of the universe is incredibly minute. The universe is some 14 billion years old and what is the average life span of a human? Even if we are generous and use 100 years as an average you can see how small of a fraction our existence is relative to the age of the universe. Yes, the end of the world is always upon everyone and it is very close. So do your best to enjoy what little time you have.

"What is.. is" helped me rediscover my faith. I realized that God offers the answer to all the unanswerable questions that I have about life and my existence. Questions that more often than not triggered a panic attack as I was lost in thought pondering them. The answer was simple. I DIDN'T NEED TO ASK THE QUESTIONS IN THE FIRST PLACE because whether I knew the answers or not, didn't matter. That I have faith that God knows should be good enough. I am safe in his hands. That doesn't mean I should stop searching for answers but if, in the search, things become too much to comprehend, then I accept the fact that God knows and someday he might share the answers with me.

Darwinism and Creationism. You may not agree, but for me it was simple. God created the universe and let it maturate. As God watched over what he had created, he found man and blessed him with a soul. A soul that was created in his likeness. How can you argue with that? It keeps God as the creator of all things and allows room for evolution and science to co-exist and progress. Take some time to think about it. What do you think is plausible? God creating every little aspect of every little thing? How tedious would that be even if you had eternity to complete the task? I like to think that God just created the catalyst that created the universe and then allowed it to evolve on it's own. Would this not be an aspect of free will but applied to the universe as a whole? Sure, God knows all things past, present and future. He has created an infinite number of paths for us and he has left which path we take completely up to us, and we are an unpredictable lot. To me, God only ever had to create the Atom with it's electron, proton and neutron and let all things evolve from there. Kind of funny how we can determine the exact location of an electron and measure it's velocity but we cannot do both at the same time. This is the "Uncertainty Principle".

Some secrets are his to keep.

Thank you for reading and good luck.
