Dealing With Panic Attacks

Written By Don Shetterly

Years ago, when I went through Conversion Disorder, I struggled with moments that the doctors hardly understood, let alone had terminology for.  I remember having a "panic attack", as it was called at the time, and given a pamphlet to be taken home to read.

The only thing is the panic attack was a symptom of a much larger condition.  Up to that point, the doctors had only diagnosed me with Multiple Sclerosis, which was later found to be wrong.  I would not know for some time that the diagnoses were Conversion Disorder, depression, and anxiety.  The doctors kept these things from me in those days.

We were all focused on getting to the point I could walk again, as I was paralyzed at that point.  The goal was to get me integrated back into my regular daily routine and activities as quickly as I could, but I'm not sure anyone thought it was possible.

Noise From A Yard Sale...

When I got home from the hospital, I remember waking up that first morning.  I heard a lot of people outside my door. Peering through the window, I noticed what appeared to be a yard sale by my neighbors.

This would be considered a reasonable thing by most people but all of the sudden, I would find myself shaking, crying, and struggling to catch my breath.  I was scared beyond belief.  I tried to hide on my couch, but the people's noises and talking would not stop.  I had no idea what was going on with me.  I felt as if I was going to die.  I didn't know what to do.

Calling my doctor, he prescribed medication for me and then I made the bold gesture of trying to go out and make it to the pharmacy.  I made it about two blocks before my legs were shaking so much and my breathing was to the point I felt like I was going to pass out.  Driving a stick-shift pickup was not easy, and I managed just to turn around and go back home.

Nothing was calming down.  My breathing was way off and challenging.  I felt so full of despair.  I finally called a co-worker friend to get the prescription for me.  The medication helped, but it knocked me out for hours.

Anxiety Took Me Down...

There would be many more times I'd have to deal with anxiety, from venturing outside my house to trying to get back to work, to going inside a store.  Anxiety would hit me hard and take me down quickly.

I learned to go without stimulants like sugar, coffee, chocolate, soft drinks and anything that might kick my body up.  While that helped, it wasn't the cure - but it helped.  I had many sessions of therapy where we would work through the anxiety issues, but it seemed as if they were never-ending.

Another thing I did was to keep a small rock in my pocket wherever I went.  I learned that if I felt a panic attack coming on, I could reach in my pocket without anyone knowing and just grab ahold of the rock.  To me, it felt grounding and safe so that even when my life felt out of control, the rock helped bring me back.

Would I Make It...

Life was a struggle.  It was difficult.  Normal things to other people were difficult life-challenging issues to me.  In those days, I wondered if I would ever make it.  I wondered if I would get beyond this and back to a normal life.

I have since learned so much more about how to deal with anxiety.  Even at times when it gets the best of me, it is nowhere to the level of full-blown panic attacks that it once was.  I have done so much intense and deep healing work using Unified Therapy that the anxiety is a fraction of what it once was.

While the mind plays a starring role in a panic or anxiety attack, the body is what generates it.  This is the most helpful revelation that I have found in my healing.  Ignoring the physical presence of why it is coming up makes it harder to deal with anxiety.  Dealing with what the cells of the body remember is where freedom and liberation from a whole new level takes place.

I never was one to accept a condition I had or a label handed to me.  I fought those hard, and I still do.  I know that if I latch on to the condition I was given, I see myself as that issue, not as potential for healing.  I desire healing.

I've fought the odds against so much that I was not supposed to conquer.  Even to this day, I do not accept where I am.  I'm always striving to push forward to places that too many believe do not exist.  As I heal more and more, I am finding that there is so much hope and possibility.

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Conversion Disorder by the Mayo Clinic on CNN Health

I saw this posted on CNN.com about conversion disorders with the source of the information being the Mayo Clinic. The link to the article is CNN-Conversion Disorders.

Since I know first hand what a conversion disorder is, I wanted to spread some information along. All too often, no one really understands what this is, let alone that it can be treated successfully. Complete loss of your physical body in a conversion disorder is a rare condition but I believe there are people out there that are living with this condition rather than truly healing from it. So many times the medical doctors do not understand this and so a patient is left to struggle through this situation which is itself a traumatic experience.

A conversion disorder is when psychological stress or trauma becomes manifested physically in the body. Movement or senses are often affected with sometimes paralysis, blindness or difficultly swallowing being the results. While symptoms of conversion disorders can be severe, people often recover within a few weeks.

Conversion disorders are usually caused by some underlying stress or traumatic incident. Trauma can exist within the body for years and when the right switch is flipped in the person's life (like another experience connecting back to the original trauma), then the body begins to shut down. The current experience may have absolutely no resemblance to what happened in the original trauma but just one part of it that connects the subconscious mind with the trauma can lead to a conversion disorder.

There is much more to a conversion disorder that you can read about on the CNN page link above.

For me, I went through a conversion disorder in 1991. It took several doctors, test and more tests and trips to the hospital, an MRI, more doctors, an ambulance ride and many unnerving moments of despair to figure out what was wrong with me. I was misdiagnosed at first with MS (Multiple Sclerosis) and while the xrays and initial testing showed that this was what I had, the doctors were too narrow in viewing their diagnosis. It was several weeks before I finally got referred to a neurologist.

When the neurologist first examined me, she had the curious look on her face wondering what was going on with me. She decided to admit me to the hospital and run further tests. Up until that point, each doctor was sending me home because there was nothing they could do for me. Yet, I could not take care of myself because I could not walk and I could barely move, eat or function. I never did understand why the doctors kept sending me home instead of admitting me to the hospital because if someone is not able to physically take care of themselves and function, is that not what a hospital is for?

After all the tests were completed and I had a near death experience (or however one would state this), the neurologist came into the room and asked me one simple question that forever changed my life. She asked me if I had anything bad happen to me and if I needed to talk about it. Of course, I don't exactly remember the words she used to ask the question but I replied in my slow and difficult speech, that yes, I needed to talk to someone.

She set me up with a psychiatrist and that first day I talked to him was the first day I was able to take a step. To me, it was no coincidence, that these two things happened together. As I began to talk a little more, I soon found myself able to walk to the bathroom, than out the door of my hospital room than down the hall several feet.

I did spend several weeks going through intense counseling in a psychiatric hospital which greatly helped me and gave me the time to rest and relax. While that was not easy to do, I had really not recalled all the trauma and abuse I had went through in my life. These things would come at a much later time where I would spend considerable time healing through these experiences in counseling.

However, I did not fully begin to heal my body from the trauma and even the experience of the conversion disorder until I met Dr. Paul Canali in 2003. When I first heard him talk about the impact trauma has on a body, I knew first hand he was talking a language my mind and my body understood. He was the first person that helped me understand what had happened to me in the conversion disorder. Up until that point, I had truly been in the dark about this condition. Since that first introduction, I have healed in ways I never thought were possible. I no longer fear a conversion disorder and I no longer live in daily fear of my body shutting down on me. However, to say that I never think about my body shutting down would be a lie because once your body has failed you in a conversion disorder, there is an altered sense of awareness and fear that you hold. The thing is, I don't live in daily fear of that because I know there is a way through it, if my body tries to shut down. Through the healing I've gone through, I don't experience the shut down symptoms like were once normal for me.

If you saw me today, you would not have any idea that I went through the conversion disorder and almost breathed my last breath. You would not realize that I had been paralyzed with almost no feeling in my body and that my memory had went away. There would be no way for you tell that my speech was almost non existent and that I suffered through convulsions, depression, anxiety and suicide. Life is completely different for me and each day I'm learning how to recover more and more of my body and my memory.

About The Picture:
The above picture was taking of me in the early stages of the paralysis. I could still sit up from time to time but I grew exhausted easily and spent considerable time sleeping. If I wasn't awake and sitting up, I was dealing with convulsions and trembling and shaking. In that picture, just holding up the balloon was a difficult thing for me.


Further Reading:
1) Conversion (Somatoform) Disorder (Blog Post 11/09/10)
2) When Life Fell Apart (Blog Post 7/31/09)
3) Hope And Possibility Through Trauma - Book By Don Shetterly
4) Recovery From A Conversion Disorder (Blog Post 7/11/11)



Blog Post & Images (c) 2/3/11 Don Shetterly - use by permission only
http://www.donshetterly.com

Pins And Needles

For a licensed print ready version, download on LuLu.com

You’ve probably had one of those moments where you were reading something or you heard something and it about dropped you dead in your tracks. One such event did that for me and before I could even begin to finish what I had started reading, my heart was pounding as if I were running for my life. In some ways I was running for my life, but the event had occurred many years earlier.

In 1991, when I was going through all the hospital tests trying to determine the cause of my paralysis, there was one test that just about did me in. I had not thought about it much until I read an account by an online blogger friend of mine. As I read her detailed account of a very similar test she went through, it was all I could do to keep reading what she wrote. I wanted to read it but the fears, the horrors and the emotions of a lifetime came rushing up. Even as I write this, I can feel my heart racing and so while I feel I need to record this, it is not easy.

The doctors had tried many tests on me trying to determine the cause of my paralysis. At first it had been proclaimed that I had Multiple Sclerosis. At age 26, that seemed like a death sentence for me. I wasn’t prepared to hear these words and I had no way to know how to react to them. As the days wore on though, that diagnosis began to prove itself wrong. My symptoms weren’t common and so specialist after specialist did every test under the sun.

The latest test they did was where I believe they were checking my muscle and nerve reflexes. I’m not 100% certain if that is exactly what it was they were doing, and someone with a medical background may be able to shed more light on this than I can. I remember being taken into this room from my hospital bed and placed upon an exam table. There were instruments and electrical-looking machines and a lady in a lab coat that I don’t even think introduced herself. Most of the time during the test, she was facing my legs and some electrical machine with her back to my face. It was almost as if she didn’t want to see me as a person but that’s just my perception.

Realize that during this time, my movements were almost nonexistent and speech was extremely slow and labored. To get a word out every few minutes that made coherent sense was quite an accomplishment for me during this time. So communication for me was almost impossible, and trying to communicate really zapped the energy from me. At that time, my energy was in a very limited supply and I did not want to waste it. So as I laid there on the exam table seeing these machines around me, with this person who I didn’t know sitting there as if I didn’t exist, I was frightened beyond belief. I had no idea what was going to be done to me, and I felt as if I had no say in it anyway.

She began her test and I felt these little pricks of what must have been a needle. You see, needles were not something good to me. You could show me a needle and I would pass out, and in fact had passed out many times for stuff like that and more. So I was doing all I could and using every ounce of energy I had to make it through this test, for this might have been the one that told the doctors what was wrong with me, I thought.

As I felt these little pricks on my legs, I would feel a little electric type jolt through them. It didn’t seem to be a large jolt of electricity, only a little buzz. The pain of the needle pricking my skin along with the uncomfortable feeling of the electricity I felt, made this very difficult to endure. Prick by prick, little buzz by little buzz, the lady in the white lab coat continued her testing procedure. It seemed like an eternity which would never end. With each prick of the needle, the pain would intensify.

I could feel the tears want to well up within my eyes, but of course my eyes had cried so much there were no tears. I could feel my voice wanting to scream out, “STOP”, but the words and the voice were lost in the void. I could feel my arms wanting to grab the lady in the white lab coat to make her stop, but my arms had no ability or energy to move. My mind knew there was nothing to do but take what was being done to me, while my body just wanted to run out of the room.

Even though I could barely speak, I do remember trying to say to the lady in the white lab coat, “please stop for a minute, please stop. Please stop.” She never heard the faint and few words of my dull voice. She only continued on, one needle prick at a time. There was no stopping her. My mind thought of a million things I would call this lady if only I could speak, and these things weren’t pretty.

The next thing I knew, I saw these doctors working around me on the table. I’m not sure where I was, but the room was full of people in white coats and much more equipment than when I initially came into the room. Seeing all of this, I didn’t really feel any pain in that moment, and actually it felt more freeing and nice than when I was on the table. The one thing I couldn’t understand, though, was why all of these people were so concerned about me and why I was watching all of this.

As my eyes began to open again, I saw the doctor with the little shock paddles and heard the words “clear” as he brought the paddles close to my bare chest and stomach. They had pulled my hospital gown down to expose my chest and abdomen. As I opened my eyes, I remember seeing such a bright light that it almost hurt my eyes to look at it. It was one of the clearest, brightest white lights I had ever seen. At first I chalked it up to the lights in the room, thinking that was obviously the source. It wasn’t until many years later, when I experienced this same bright white light in a healing session from a lady in South Florida, that I put together what the white light was all about.

As my eyes began to focus on the room, I could hear the people giving out the blood pressure readings and the pulse. Everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as they began to leave the room. One nurse who stayed in there with me commented that they had thought they lost me. That’s about all that was ever said or all that I remember being said. Again, this didn’t quite connect with my brain for many years of what really transpired on this day.

While you may be reading and feeling sad for all of what I went through, this is ok. However, there is a much broader reason why I share this. You see, the body is like an electrical box full of circuits. If we overload the circuits with many devices or stresses in our lives, sooner or later the circuits will overload and trip the individual breakers. If you overload too many circuits at the same time, than the entire circuit box begins to trip and shut down.

This is exactly what was happening in my body. My body had endured a lifetime of stresses, events, pains and abuses. I had ignored these for years and thought I was being a strong man by just handling things. After all, everyone I knew understood just how together I had life. There was nothing that could stop me. I was invincible. I was all powerful, not the weak person that was lying in a hospital bed. There was also what I had been taught every day of my life, that you just handled your problems on your own. You didn’t go to others for help because that was not only a sign of weakness, but these people would then use your problems to their advantage in future dealings with you. You could not trust these people from that point forward. I so remember one whipping in the middle of the night to bring this point home in a very clear way.

As Peter Levine talks about in his book, “Waking The Tiger”, our bodies will react to all that we experience. We can try to run from it, hide it, analyze it or mold it into some sort of religion, but if we don’t deal with that which we have endured, it will deal with us. We may go years, like I did, before it begins to rear its ugly head but it has our days numbered.

Many of us go through life having all types of experiences throughout our years. Some of these are horrendous and are further cemented in the experience by strong emotional components, or by our young age of not knowing and understanding what is going on. We then find ways to compensate for these experiences, sometimes not even consciously knowing that we are doing this. We continue to live our lives adding more events, and more stress during each day.

Our body and our mind tries to get our attention with its many warning system lights such as headaches, pains, stiffness, sickness, disease, and other health conditions. We run to the doctors out of fear, wanting to be fixed and wanting some medication, surgery or therapy to fix us. So the doctor in their vast knowledge gives us something that will help. They often give us a name of the condition we are experiencing, and at last we know that we can wear our badge of what we have with pride. We know what it is and we can be cared for. It gives us a spring to our feet and a bounce to our step.

However, the condition does not necessarily disappear. It might be suppressed or it might give way to other conditions. Medications and surgeries with all their side effects may welcome other unwanted and undesired guests into our bodies and our minds. All the while, we’re still not cured. The condition is still there. It is just masked and covered up.

Please don’t get me wrong here, as I’m not saying all medication and all surgery and all medical intervention is a bad thing. We sometimes need this to stabilize our lives so that we can move to the point of healing. However, so many of us stay in this mode and never move on to the healing part. Masking the pain or the condition is never healing. It’s like using a band aid to cover a blood-gushing wound. While it may help temporarily, the wound needs further attention to heal.

While this may sound unreal and difficult to even contemplate, going into the pain and all the fears that may come up will ultimately release what is beneath that which you are sensing. By doing this, we are able to take the power that the fear possesses in the condition, or the pain, and use it to move us forward through this point in our lives. Otherwise, the fear and the pain of the condition remain as stored energy, locked within our cells, holding us back from realizing our true potential. The fears can be strong but the rewards of doing this are much greater.

We should not view pain as something that we must fix, but something that we need to accept. Through acceptance we take the power back from it, so that we more fully integrate ourselves into a complete person. The greatest gift we can give ourselves is to know our self in the fullest possible way. For the more we have fully integrated ourselves as one mind, body and spirit, the more we are human.