Today we have a guest post from friend Maria Lemus who blogs at Sex and the Beach, a blog about a single woman's guide to chronic living in Miami. Maria is a kindred spirit and one of the most amazing people I have the pleasure to call friend.
In terms of healing, Maria deserves a gold star, as her story is inspiring to others who have suffered from agoraphobia and anxiety attacks. In one year she went from not being able to leave her home to now going out every day to enjoy the sights and sounds of Miami, and in the process, she lost 50lbs without dieting.
***
I was driving along, minding my own business, when I
suddenly felt disoriented. My heart started racing. My
hands and legs shook uncontrollably. I couldn't
concentrate. I was afraid I was going to lose control of the car.
I'm dying.
Or am I?
No. I'm in the throes of an anxiety attack, which is a
physiological reaction to stress called the flight or
flight syndrome. My body has just released adrenaline
because it thinks it's being chased by an elephant, when
in fact, those elephants are really just my heart's way
of telling me to listen to the grief that lingers like
hazy background music I no longer hear: that background
being the beating of my heart.
The heart's beating: that constant reminder of why I am
here and what I am doing about it.
But I don't know this yet.
I don't know that I'm not having a heart attack. I don't
know that I'm not going to die. I don't know that millions
of others also suffer from anxiety attacks.
No, I know none of this.
And because I'm so afraid that this crazy, unexplainable
crisis will ever happen again, I become afraid of driving.
Then it happens again. And again.
Oh no, not again.
Eventually, I stop driving. I stop walking. I stop
moving. And even though my heart still beats, I stop
living.
I become agoraphobic and life goes on permanent hold ...
Anxiety disorder (the sudden onset of anxiety attacks)
and agoraphobia (fear of being outside of your comfort
zone when an anxiety attack occurs) happened to me
several times in my adult life. The last time it
happened, I said: ENOUGH.
***
I’ve come a long way in one year, but the process of
transition started long before. In 2005, I embarked on a
relationship with a man that was very challenging. Note
that I say challenging and not damaging, because I refuse
to consider myself damaged goods – far from it.
This man was the worst thing that ever happened to me,
but in some ways, he was also my best teacher, because
the relationship forced me to evolve into the woman I am
today.
Not only was this man psychologically abusive and
manipulative, he also raped me and violated me physically
in other ways.
At the beginning of the end, I developed severe anxiety
attacks, which eventually dragged me into agoraphobia. I
would have a difficult time leaving the front door of my
apartment for nearly three years. I was literally
paralyzed in fear, handicapped by it, stunted, and
seemingly at the time, forever held back from life.
In today's guest post, Jen from Semi-Charmed Wife shares with us her story of recovery from "refunding" and anorexia, and what those EDs really meant to her. I remember back in my late 20's my friends and I would call bulimia the "debit and credit" diet. It's interesting how money terms can be used as metaphors to describe eating issues. There's kind of a synergy there I suppose.
