Yesterday, at 3:30 pm, I experienced a pretty severe panic attack. I wasn’t doing anything that should have triggered such an event, but alas, it did. I was alone. It started with that funny feeling in my head like I’m going to either fall over or pass out. Then the heart rate went up – fast. The surge of adrenal kept hitting me until I realized what was going on. I was having a panic attack.
I started my breathing, taught to me by Gabby Bernstein – breathe in, in, in, in (through the nose), whooooooo (through them mouth), over and over until I got my heart rate to a reasonable level. The tears started to fall. I knew I wasn’t having a heart attack but I couldn’t seem to convince my head of this. Breathe in, in, in, in, whooooo. I have found crying helps me get through an attack quicker. Maybe it’s the release of emotions or something. I don’t know why it helps, and I don’t care. I cried. Breathe in, in, in, in, whooooo.
After about 10 minutes I felt capable of walking around my house, staying close to walls and furniture just in case. I still felt a bit woozy and I had that signature tingling in the face. Oh, and did I mention the shakes? My hands didn’t stop shaking. Breathe in, in, in, in, whoooo. I started to feel even better.
It’s was a beautiful day outside so I talked myself out onto the back porch. A bit of vitamin D therapy was bound to do me some good. I got out there, my tranquility blend of essential oils in hand, and sat in the heat of the sun with the neighborhood noises blaring all around me. Cars drove by, a black bird swooped in the back yard, the baby next door cried. I inhaled the aroma of the oils – breathe in, in, in, in, whoooo. That particular blend is my miracle worker. It can bring me out of a mild attack within seconds. This time it took a bit more.
Out of nowhere I saw a movement on the side of my stucco house. It startled me at first, as it was less than a foot from my left shoulder. But once I noticed it was only a small lizard I relaxed. Yes, that’s what I needed – to relax.
This lizard scurried about the side of the building, it’s feet clinging for dear life onto the nooks and crannies of the stucco. Periodically it would stop, pivot it’s head, and then move a few inches. I wondered what was going through his head. Did he have a plan? Did he know where he was going? Did he want to get back down to ground level where food was bound to be found? Where did he come from anyway?
Soon I was mesmerized by this little creature. It danced along the side of the building, going up, going down, even traversing the edge of my office window. At one point I noticed my hands stopped shaking. Then my face stopped tingling. I was breathing normal. My heart was no longer pounding out of my chest. I was calm.
I stayed on the back porch for about 12 minutes keeping company with my new friend. I took some videos and captured a few photos. He didn’t seem to mind. I wanted something to remember this time. A time when something outside of myself brought me back to reality. Back from the brink of insanity. Back from the feeling of helplessness. Thank you little lizard. I am forever grateful.
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Corrie Ann Gray is a writer, researcher, coach, and cookie enthusiast who lives in Los Angeles, CA. She started the Clean Body Project to share all of her knowledge and resources with others who are interested in running their own experiment into clean holistic living. She is also known as The Renaissance Soul Writer at www.corrieanngray.com.