I've had panic disorder for long enough that I know it never goes smoothly for long. I know from experience that is usually when you least expect it hits. Then again I have also learned that sometimes you can push it knowing what will probably happen then regret it after. Like this time at Chatelherault. It was very like the time I pushed myself down to the water 5 years ago. The result was at least. That time I was in full blown panic and had a climb to perceived safety. This time was the same in that regard but I did not see it coming.
On Wednesday we were pushed for time the wife and I. We went to Chatelherault just for a sake of a drive rather than a walk through the beautiful woodlands but once there we got out. We could not spend much time there as we had to get back for the kids. We walked long a bit and I saw signposts for "Old Avon Bridge (1.4 KM)". We followed so far until we came to a steep set of stairs. My wife's back has been sore this week so there was no way she was going down. And we did not have time anyway. Still though I would not listen. I told her to head back to the car and said I would take a little walk along but watch my time so we were not late for the school. And that is what I did. It was a mistake.
Already I had done the calculations in my head. 1.4 km is roughly about a mile and that a mile takes me roughly 20 minutes. I only had 15 minutes though but I thought if I went as far as I could then I may see the bridge and be able to take a photo from afar. Of course what I had forgotten about was the fact it was 20 minutes there and 20 minutes back. Silly me. I went down those steep stairs and followed a winding path through the woods picking up speed. At every turn I hoped the bridge would come in to view but it never did. It was about 10 minutes in that I realised my mistake and also that I had 5 minutes to do a 10 minute walk. It was a rush and for me a rush is never good. It then came to a head when I got to the bottom of those steep stairs. I was already getting out of breath and those I knew were going to really test me. Were that not bad enough halfway up and heading into panic because I could not get a breath my wife called to see what was taking me so long and I had to try to explain. It was not an enjoyable experience. I took so long that my wife called a second time and when I was finally back in the car I was soaked in sweat, unable to get a proper breath, feeling I would throw up and in full blown panic. All the old fears came rushing in. Far from home and all that. I just wanted to get home quickly. Another wave of panic: we were not going home. We were going to the school. Somehow I managed to keep it together all the way to the school and even get out to collect the kids. When I got home though I was shattered and panic kept coming.
The thought of returning the following day did not fill me with joy but it was me who suggested it. I felt I had to. Ideally when dealing with panic the books say I should wait if possible until the panic drops by half and in doing so I am not attaching the feeling of panic to the memory of that place. I had though been unable to wait because we had to pick up the kids. That is why I had to return. And so we did. This time I did not go the bridge route as I did not want to try climbing those stairs again. This time we went a gentler route to Cadzow Castle which I had been wanting to see but is unfortunately a ruin which is now off limits to the public. That was a bit of a disappointment but not to worry. The point of the visit was just to return there and if it caused panic which it did then I had to stay until it dropped which I did. We also found a closer bridge named the Duke Bridge which looked old.
Yesterday the schools were off so we returned to Chatelherault for a third day in a row. It was always going to be difficult because my oldest daughter had an idea in her head and when she has one of those she is like a dog with a bone. She had read something about a wildlife photography competition and so wanted to try to find some animals to photograph. First though something very bizarre happened. I was telling her all about cameras and then referred to the XF1 I had which my wife took to a concert a year ago, got it soaked and it never worked again. Rather than throw it I thought I might see if I could get it repaired somewhere. Long story short I got it out of the cupboard, charged the battery a but and tried it and it worked. I was amazed. I tried a few months back and it was still completely dead. So my daughter had a camera and now all we needed to do was look for wild animals.
Chatelherault is a good place for this. One of the woodland walks is dotted with markers like the one above indicating where wildlife can be found. Unfortunately that walk is the one with the steep stairs and that was the one we had to go on. It had to be done. I knew how it would go and on that score I was not disappointed but at least this time I was able to stay until the panic eased off to a reaonable level. We went down the stairs and even going down I was getting breathless illustrating the breathlessness was mentally driven primarily at least. And it just drove on from there. And on and on.
I was determined not to let it drive me away. Even pushing it by finding an alternative route and following that a long way on my own before returning to my family. And every minute that passed I waited for the anxiety to drop but it remained on the threshold of spilling over. And all this was still with the steps to be climbed once more. I'm never one to put these kind of situations off and that is probably why I have trouble waiting. So after spending a few minutes by the river with the family I went back up the stairs with them. Envious as I stopped for breath and watch the three kids bound up like they were going down. And even when I stood still the breathlessness increased. I was focusing on it and I worry was making me more breathless but I felt powerless to stop it.
It was actually worse than the time before. I got to the top and when I went to walk everything spun and it felt like my legs had gone. I wanted to lie down. My chest felt like it was being crushed and I was suffocating and still I had to walk and pretend there was nothing wrong despite the alarm inside. Halfway back to the car another swoosh and everything spun again. Panic. I just couldn't take it. I realised I was going backwards and my fear was each time I tried to do the right thing I was infact making it worse.
Depressing. Depressing while it lasted. But it does not last forever. In those moments I felt sure it would. If I could have lay down, closed my eyes and been home when I opened them then I would not have cared how stupid I looked. But if I had done that I would never have experienced the normality after when the panic had to die down. It was spend while my oldest and I went off down this way and that looking for animals to photograph. Not lacking energy or breath or worried about either. Instead just feeling a little normal.
We didn't get what we came for in terms of wildlife pics but for me it proved a very worthwhile experience. Strange how something so horrible can be so good for you. When we return I will not be anxiety free but I will be not far from it and better for the return at least.
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