The Weird Wonderful Terrible World of Anxiety #HoldOntoTheLight

This is something I don’t talk about much, but when the amazing organizers behind #HoldOnToTheLight approached me, I couldn’t say no.

In 2010 I spent an afternoon speeding off in the back of an ambulance, strapped to a stretcher. Thirty days later, my doctor would finally tell me it had been a benign arrhythmia, complicated by my first ever panic attack, that had sent me to the floor. How bad had it been? I’d called the love of my life to say goodbye.

The ER nurse that first day told me, “You’re probably fine, but yeah, you could drop dead at any moment too.” They sent me on my way six hours later with a holter monitor I was supposed to wear for the month. This was followed by my primary care physician telling me about all his patients that had died recently and without warning under similar circumstances. The thirty days in between the event and finally getting to remove that goddamned holter monitor were an absolute hell.

I spent weeks buried in panic attacks. I was essentially curled up on the couch with a blanket, and did nothing. I dragged myself to work because mortgages are bloody expensive, and I wasn’t leaving that all on Amy. Weeks of panic attacks bad enough that I had to pull off the road until I stopped shaking, until I could focus on getting back to that couch, seeing Amy at least one more time. It wasn’t until the last week of the month that I finally met my cardiologist, the first doctor who actually bothered to sit down and tell me what was really happening.

That wake up call, that thirty days of knowing I might die at any moment, changed a lot for me. It took about a year to start feeling like myself again. Climbing out of that experience motivated me to publish, and I joined a critique group soon after. I met my editor. I researched the hell out of publishing paths. It could take years to find an agent? Years for them to sell a manuscript? Ha. Life’s short, I wanted my stories in the hands of readers. I marched into indie publishing and haven’t looked back.

Amy got me through the worst of my depression. In that month I learned very quickly that some people don’t want to hear what’s really going on with your health issues. Even some of your family will step back, wanting the “old you.” Not this damaged, dark thing you’ve become. But there are also those amazing people, who you may not realize how amazing they are, that will do anything to help.

What I learned was invaluable. What I learned was that there is light. There is an end. It will get better. If you need help, please ask for it. You aren’t alone. There are so many lights in your life waiting to help. Just hold on.

If you want to get even more hands-on, please consider donating to or volunteering for organizations dedicated to treatment and prevention such as: American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, Home for the Warriors (PTSD), National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), Canadian Mental Health Association, MIND (UK), SANE (UK), BeyondBlue (Australia), To Write Love On Her Arms and the National Suicide Prevention Hotline.