Attacking Panic

Back in August last year I got close to the Clyde and here I stood again looking down frustrated. There looked to be no way down and I was already well out of puff just getting this far again. I've been here many times looking down for a path that does not exist. This time I thought it would be different but it wasn't. My mantra for the week had been "Attack! Attack". By that I mean not allowing panic to turn me back but instead pushing forward attacking back through gritted teeth and worrying about the consequences later. This week in my head I have been visualising where I want to go and while there in that head space pushing through the panic to re-enact it later for real. Its not the solution but has given me some small victories this week. I won't bore you with them all at this time but the best one was probably going into the nursery again and this time standing talking to my daughter's teacher for a good 5 minutes. Little things that mean so much but are tainted by the torment that must be endured each time to do them.

On this occasion I imagined being here again. The density of nature stood between me and the river but this time, like the panic, I was going to force my way through it. That was the thought anyway but when I got there I was frustrated once again to realise that any attempt to do so was futile. It was just too dense to push down through. See how tightly packed the trees are but it does it show the steep decline down to the river.

Attack! Attack! There was nothing to attack or at least nothing that would yield. I couldn't just go back so thought I might as well test myself while I was here and go a little further than I had been before. I decided I would walk down a path and see how far I could get before I had to flee.

There are some wooden stairs leading down so no problem with footing but after that its all mud track and on this particular day there had been heavy rain. It was messy and slippery underfoot. At least it was level though so I would walk along trying to loosen up my body and take deep regular breaths. As importantly though I had fend off the thoughts of how far from home I was. And as has been discussed many times before: how do you not think about something without first thinking about it?

I didn't get very far but that was not because I was ready to flee. In fact quite the opposite. I stopped near a couple of trees to my left and peered down at what looked to be a faint foot trail leading down. A possible route down to the water? Internally I was swinging between excitement and trepidation. This could be what I was looking for but I was already outside my comfort zone. Still though I couldn't head back just yet. I had to at least try seeing how far down I could get and also to see if I could see the water through the trunks and branches in my way.

 The further down I went the more tightly packed the woodland became until it got to the point where I was having to bend branched and step over things. I then reached a point where I had to pause to take stock. That was a bad idea. As soon as I done it images flooded into my head of where I was in relation to home. It was at this point I realised I could go no further. Panic was setting in. I had opened the door and now the opposing force was too strong to allow me to close it. It is very much like a flood. Even if I could close the door again I would still be left with what had already got in. It was time to flee but before I did that I wanted to take a photo to analyse later and see if I could see the water when I zoomed in or even get an indication of how close I was to it. If you enlarge this photo you will see how blurry it is. That is how much I was shaking. But it would have to do. Panic was going to get worse before it got better so my time was up and now it was the long road home for me.

Oh yes I nearly forgot about the dream as I nearly did also at this point. As I turned to leave something really nagged at me. I had stood so long looking down and now I knew I was close. Would I get this opportunity again? Would I get so near again? I was so close yet compelled to give up just like in the dream. I wish I could say it was as easy as a simple choice but it wasn't. Anyone who has experienced panic will know it is difficult to follow your desire over self preservation. When you are feeling the onslaught most things that were precious to you become of little value and the only important thing is to stop the attack. Attack! Attack!, part of me was saying but the greater part was trying to drag me back up incline by the hand. I knew that as bad as I felt and as much as I wanted desperately to be home I could not pass up this chance having come so far. The consequences I knew would be bad but I'd already incurred them by getting here already. In my dream I'd walked away after getting so near because of the realisation I was agoraphobic. This time I was not going to let it beat me come what may. It was time to throw myself into the fire. So against my better judgement I tensed up, gritted my teeth and basically launched myself downwards crashing through everything that was in my way like a mad man. And finally I could see the river.

Wringing out the last drops of effort I got right down to the bank. In truth I was now much calmer. I'd made it. Finally after all this time of frustration I was down there at the river and if it wasn't so dirty looking I may have put my hand in it too ensure I was not dreaming again. Where I had failed asleep I wanted to ensure I had conquered awake. I could actually have stayed longer. I took a few snaps and even on zoom there was no blur as I was not shaking. My breathing had regulated again. What kept me from staying longer though was the prospect of the return journey. If I had the ability to click my fingers and be in the house again when I wanted then I would have spent a great deal of time down there. The panic had been washed away by the sight of this great body of water that I always see from afar but now all alone with no one to bother me I was relaxed, apart from getting home.

It should have been a cause for celebrating. To the left you can see the journey which looks less impressive from above but is there nonetheless and is enlargeable. To long to do something and finally do it should be applauded, or at least you should give yourself some credit. But as every agoraphobic will know who has endured a trial and come through it the reward is not pure. Its scarred by the torture that is not only in that present moment but lasts for a long time after. My temporary serenity was about to be crushed. Even though I was relaxed the mind was too preoccupied fighting off the negative thoughts hammering on the gate to remember what I had been planning to do when I got down there. I had actually envisaged trying out different camera settings and also to use my mini tripod to capture 3 different exposures of the same scene to blend later in an HDR image. It was more a snapping frenzy than a controlled photography session. And what I also realised was that this Attack! Attack! mantra was nonesense. Pushing through panic is not difficult. Dealing with the consequences of doing so is the hard part.

There was only so long I could keep my back to the inevitable. At some point I would have to turn around. What resources I had within me I had spent in full getting this far and had nothing to repeat the journey in reverse. To add to it the return was all uphill and would begin with a fairly steep incline. All it took was turning around to face what I could not see for full blown panic to hit me. It was my worst nightmare come true and one of the things I had been dreading most would happen some day- a panic attack alone in seclusion. This panic though was very different. Panic for me always starts with a shaking at the back of my neck. This started with heavy hyperventilation. That in itself was not new. The night I tried to get to Bothwell Bridge it happened there, also one the return, but I did also have the shakes first then. I couldn't see the top of the incline and in fact I could see very little as the image illustrates. In my mind just getting back to the path seemed like a 3 day trek. I had no idea how far I had come and feared it was a long way. With panic raging I started the climb to get out of the woodland and it was one of the most horrible and frightening experiences I've had in recent months.

Somehow, probably because fear was propelling me, I got back on to the path and could see the stairs leading up to the clearing but things had gotten a whole lot worse. My whole chest was heaving. I tried to take a deep breath but it was impossible as my body commanded short sharp intakes. One of the things I have been thankful for over the years is that as bad as my panic attacks are I don't get one usually common symptom- something concerning the heart. Now I knew what that was like. It was thumping against my chest and racing at high speed. More worrying was the thumping speeding pulse in my right ear which I have to admit was scaring me no end. People usually wake up with these sensation in their bed and that is bad enough but I was in the middle of nowhere and hadn't even told my wife where I was going. As much as I needed to sit down my urge to get home pushed me up the stairs, under the bridge and up the road back home but now without incident. Its not an experience I want to put myself through again any time soon but I can at least tick another checkbox on my to-do list.

Was it worth it? Maybe in a week or longer I will think so but not at the moment. The consequences of pushing beyond the norm don't just stop when you get home. The rest of the day was virtual write off, though I did go out in the car again almost straight after, and the day after has been difficult. Mainly the chest is very tight which was probably down to the exertions, tensions and overall panic. It makes breathing more shallow and can be quite uncomfortable. I also feel shattered- like I've run a marathon. So was it worth all this grief for a moment that I am unlikely to repeat? Time will tell. As bad as I felt today I still went for a long walk. Not to the point of panic but I was surprised when I mapped it later to find I'd actually walked further than yesterday. All roads lead to the mind being the main protagonist- maybe even the only protagonist. I want to just walk one day until I can walk no more and see where it takes me. I just wonder how far I can push my body against my own mind. I just wonder how far I can walk if I don't need to look back. For now though I will try to take things a little easier. A 6 month obsession has been realised but there are many more that won't rest until I have lived them.

One last thing I am not comfortable about typing here but will anyway. When I finally got out of perceived danger and on the way home I saw something coming out of the woods. Something I have to suspect was a hallucination. It was someone I am sure. They seemed to be coming right for me out of the woods to my left, as seen in the photo below I took on the way down. They were coming beyond on the wall and at the time I was sure it was a Native American and yet wearing a bright yellow jacket. Bizarre I know but it freaked me. And I kept thinking someone was coming when I got through the tunnel and waiting to hear footsteps quicken behind me as I struggled for breath but they never came. As I said it feels stupid typing this but I feel I need to. That is was happened at the time as irrational as it sounds.