The way I saw it, Klonopin was saving my life. With it, I was able to get in my car and drive. I was able to go to work. I was able to actually leave my house and go out into the world without having a panic attack. By the fall of 2009, my life wasn't exactly back to like it had been before, but with the help of the Klonopin bottle rolling around in my purse, it was a pretty close immitation of the life I had.
Without the Klonopin, I was a hyperventilating sobbing wreck. I didn't know if I would need these pills for the rest of my life but it was starting to feel that way. I still did not understandwhat was causing my fear or physical symtoms. Or which came first, the physical symptoms causing the fear or the fear causing the physical symtoms. I half heartedly tried diet modifictions and restricting certain foods to find possible triggers, but outside of caffeine, I had given up trying to figure anything else out. I want to say that the reason I’d given up so quickly was because it felt overwhelming and I didn’t know where to start. But truthfully back then, I saw this problem of my anxiety as someone else’s problem to fix. That’s why I contintued to seek answers from my doctor. This was his problem, not mine.
But deep down, I must’ve known that I was the root cause of my anxiety thus I would have to find the solution within myself or go searching and find it for myself. But instead of focusing on finding a way out of my spiral, I fell further into the fear, cowering into myself, and developing even more phobias. Everyday felt like a new level in some horror video game had been unlocked. I felt at every bend in the road of my life, there should have been a neon sign above my head flashing New Fear Unlocked.
This was my fall season of 2009. Fears escalating but numbing myself to everything with Klonopin. During this time, Alex and I moved in together. We were too young, too inexperienced, too broke, but too in love to keep sneaking in and out of our parents houses like teenagers, and going to sleep at night without the other.
But my anxiety, these contant relentless panic attacks were in the way. In my desperation to free my mind from the vise of anxiety, and having been raised Southern Baptist, I'd become obsessively convinced that God was punishing me with this incurable anxiety because we were living in sin by living together outside of marriage.
Alex’s forehead had scrunched up as I told him this. He didn’t believe that God was a destructive master in the sky waiting eagerly to cast down punishments for those who broke the rules. In his formative years what he learned about God had not included hell, fire, brimstone, and damnation. This had caused a very passionate argument between Alex and me. On his side, God was forgiving. On my side, God was vengeful.
I told Alex the only solution was for us to get married. And for the first time in our 3 year relationship we were fighting all the time. It wasn't because Alex didn't want to get married, but because he wanted to do it "right." He wanted to finish school. He wanted a better job. He wanted steady income without having to worry if the bills would get paid at the end of the month. He had said he couldn't give me everything I wanted yet.
But I continued to argue with him. All I wanted was him and to not have this anxiety. And I couldn't let go of the paranoia that God was punishing me.
During our conversations, Alex started staring at me a lot. It's what he had always done when he was thinking and forming words. My words came out too quickly, as they still do. But Alex would think long and hard about his words before he committed to them. But now he had plenty in his mind that he wanted to say, but he wouldn't form the words and let them out. He just stared at me. He must've known I was too stubborn to hear his reasoning on many things at that time and decided not to waste is breath. But he did ask me to stop pushing him. Alex rarely asked anything of me. And yet, I could only see myself and my anxiety back then. In hindsight, I see Alex and the look on his face and wish I had stopped to realize what I was doing to him.
After one particularly ugly argument that left me in tears and Alex near them himself, he had relented.
Alex didn't marry me because it's what he wanted to do at the time. He married me because he loved me too much to bare to see me eat up with the fear of being punished by God for loving him.
Without the Klonopin, I was a hyperventilating sobbing wreck. I didn't know if I would need these pills for the rest of my life but it was starting to feel that way. I still did not understandwhat was causing my fear or physical symtoms. Or which came first, the physical symptoms causing the fear or the fear causing the physical symtoms. I half heartedly tried diet modifictions and restricting certain foods to find possible triggers, but outside of caffeine, I had given up trying to figure anything else out. I want to say that the reason I’d given up so quickly was because it felt overwhelming and I didn’t know where to start. But truthfully back then, I saw this problem of my anxiety as someone else’s problem to fix. That’s why I contintued to seek answers from my doctor. This was his problem, not mine.
But deep down, I must’ve known that I was the root cause of my anxiety thus I would have to find the solution within myself or go searching and find it for myself. But instead of focusing on finding a way out of my spiral, I fell further into the fear, cowering into myself, and developing even more phobias. Everyday felt like a new level in some horror video game had been unlocked. I felt at every bend in the road of my life, there should have been a neon sign above my head flashing New Fear Unlocked.
This was my fall season of 2009. Fears escalating but numbing myself to everything with Klonopin. During this time, Alex and I moved in together. We were too young, too inexperienced, too broke, but too in love to keep sneaking in and out of our parents houses like teenagers, and going to sleep at night without the other.
But my anxiety, these contant relentless panic attacks were in the way. In my desperation to free my mind from the vise of anxiety, and having been raised Southern Baptist, I'd become obsessively convinced that God was punishing me with this incurable anxiety because we were living in sin by living together outside of marriage.
Alex’s forehead had scrunched up as I told him this. He didn’t believe that God was a destructive master in the sky waiting eagerly to cast down punishments for those who broke the rules. In his formative years what he learned about God had not included hell, fire, brimstone, and damnation. This had caused a very passionate argument between Alex and me. On his side, God was forgiving. On my side, God was vengeful.
I told Alex the only solution was for us to get married. And for the first time in our 3 year relationship we were fighting all the time. It wasn't because Alex didn't want to get married, but because he wanted to do it "right." He wanted to finish school. He wanted a better job. He wanted steady income without having to worry if the bills would get paid at the end of the month. He had said he couldn't give me everything I wanted yet.
But I continued to argue with him. All I wanted was him and to not have this anxiety. And I couldn't let go of the paranoia that God was punishing me.
During our conversations, Alex started staring at me a lot. It's what he had always done when he was thinking and forming words. My words came out too quickly, as they still do. But Alex would think long and hard about his words before he committed to them. But now he had plenty in his mind that he wanted to say, but he wouldn't form the words and let them out. He just stared at me. He must've known I was too stubborn to hear his reasoning on many things at that time and decided not to waste is breath. But he did ask me to stop pushing him. Alex rarely asked anything of me. And yet, I could only see myself and my anxiety back then. In hindsight, I see Alex and the look on his face and wish I had stopped to realize what I was doing to him.
After one particularly ugly argument that left me in tears and Alex near them himself, he had relented.
Alex didn't marry me because it's what he wanted to do at the time. He married me because he loved me too much to bare to see me eat up with the fear of being punished by God for loving him.
I'm thankful for the positive impact your blog has on my life.
ReplyDeleteI'm thankful for the clarity and practicality of the advice you provide.
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