Anxiety and Panic Attacks - Finding the Root Cause

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By Gul

I had my first panic attack three years ago. I was 21 years old and I was living in my third homeless shelter. One of my abusers had tried to contact me. I had been to visit a friend who had recently moved out of the shelter. I told her that I had to leave early. It was a half hour walk back to the shelter; I didn’t understand what was happening. I couldn’t breathe. But I kept walking.

It happened again in the shower. It felt like I was drowning. I didn’t even have a word for what it was. I realised I had sat down in the shower. A voice in my head said ‘Stand Up’, and I Stood Up. I don’t remember if I had another panic attack in that time. I can’t remember anything other than my room in the homeless shelter, and not being able to get out of bed. One of the other women knocked on my door, to ask me how I was. I don’t remember what I said, or whether I even answered. I don’t know how long I stayed in my room. It might have been a week. It might have been two weeks. Maybe even three.

She saw the hostel’s address

I don’t remember making an appointment to see my GP although I do remember registering with the surgery. I filled in the form and handed it back to the receptionist. She saw the hostel’s address, and then showed somebody else and said, ‘Is that… ?’ and the other person nodded. I couldn’t understand why she needed to ask that, and why she didn’t ask me, but asked in front of me. It was like I wasn’t there and somehow living in a hostel meant I wasn’t able to speak for myself.

I had gone to see my GP about an infection. Whilst he was typing up the prescription, I told him about my abuser and being estranged. He then turned to look at me. I don’t remember what he looked like, but I do remember how dark his eye bags were. I then told him about my panic attacks. Although I don’t remember if I said panic attacks. I might have said ‘I keep hyperventilating.’

I asked for medication, but he said I couldn’t take amoxicillin, as I was taking other tablets (for anxiety and depression). (Although, I have just checked The British Medical Association (BMA): New Guide to Medicines & Drugs, and it does not state that amoxicillin interacts with antidepressants or anti-anxiety drugs.) I asked if he could refer me for therapy instead. He looked at my address on his screen, and said, ‘Isn’t that a hostel, why don’t you ask the staff?’ I don’t remember what I replied.

Treatment

I then had an initial telephone appointment with Improving Access to Psychological Therapies (IAPT). It was with a woman, I don’t remember her name, but I told her about a past abuser contacting me. She told me that she needed to share this information. I asked her why, and she said, ‘Because you’ve identified a predator.’ She sounded pissed off. The only reason I asked why was because I had told my GP about the abuser, and he hadn’t shared this information. So I was confused as to why this therapist said she had to share it. To my knowledge, this information was not shared.

She then told me that I would be referred for Cognitive Behaviour Therapy (CBT) for anxiety and counselling for depression. She told me I could be fast-tracked for CBT, but I don’t remember the reason she gave, and that the counselling waiting list was six months.

I then started having CBT over the phone. I’m not sure how many sessions I had, but I do remember there was a gap during the Christmas period. I don’t think it was CBT that helped me, I don’t even remember the content of some of the sessions, and I never completed any of the work between sessions. Rather I think it was time, and the therapist herself. She was kind, and she listened. She was one of the few people who spoke to me like I was a person, not just a person in a homeless shelter.

I don’t remember if I had a panic attack whilst having CBT. I don’t remember my anxiety during that time. But, I do remember the ache in my chest. It never went away. It wasn’t chest pain, it was heartache. I know that now.

Reform the form

I remember having an appointment with a woman from a housing association. One of the questions on her form was ‘Has anyone in your family ever experienced sexual abuse?’ If I had been the person I am now, I would have slapped the stupidity right out of her. That was none of her fucking business, and it wasn’t relevant to the appointment. I asked her why she had asked this, and she gave a typical jobsworth’s answer, ‘It’s on the form.’ Reform the form.

She must have asked about my mental health and how I was managing it. She mentioned that I had CBT in front of the hostel’s support worker. The support worker then turned to me, made an ugly face, and said ‘I didn’t know you had CBT.’ I didn’t know that I had to tell her this.

Panic attacks continue

I had another panic attack the following month. I remember collapsing in my room. And I remember speaking to the lady in the room next to me. She told me that she would hear me throwing up. But I don’t remember throwing up. ‘That’s stress is that.’ I then emailed Anxiety UK for advice and support. But, I don’t remember what their reply was.

I then had a panic attack in the reception at Mind. I was having Peer Support Facilitation Training, as I used to volunteer at Mind. There were five training sessions, on Saturdays. So, it gave me something to look forward to on a weekend. I’ve always hated weekends. I still do. It happened during the last session. We had brought food in to celebrate. I started having a panic attack towards the end of the session. And I felt so ashamed, it felt like I’d ruined the last session.

I remember having another panic attack in the homeless shelter’s kitchen. In front of three other women. One woman then led me downstairs and gave me a chocolate bar. This happened in the week that I was moving out of the shelter.

My anxiety

I then started my new job and started going to the gym after work. I remember feeling the urge to scream in the gym’s showers. And I remember holding back a scream after someone walked past wearing a vanilla scent. I thought that this was anxiety, but I now know it was post-traumatic stress.

I worked overtime and I went to the gym twice a day. So, I didn’t think about the shelter and all my other issues as much. This made me less anxious, and I only had one panic attack in that time. It happened outside my house, and I just collapsed. As pathetic as this sounds, I really wanted one of my neighbours to find me. To speak to me. I remember thinking, nobody’s coming. So I got up and I went inside.

I then started my course, and I was anxious. All the time. My anxiety would get worse whilst I was on placement. I was bullied on every placement except for health visiting. The health visitors were inclusive and friendly, and wanted to share their knowledge with me. But I was wary of them, because I couldn’t understand why they were being nice. As I was so used to being bullied by healthcare staff, being treated nicely felt foreign to me.

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I was judged

At the start of my second year at university I was less anxious. But, following an incident on my third placement, my anxiety increased. I almost had a panic attack whilst on placement, but I managed to stop it. I then started taking propranolol, to help lower my anxiety, but a side effect was not being able to sleep. So, I stopped taking the tablets, because I couldn’t concentrate whilst on placement.

I remember telling another student nurse in the library about the incident and that I was taking propranolol for anxiety.

‘You take tablets for anxiety, maybe you should find a different career.’

Anxiety is a condition that I did not choose to have. I was taking tablets to help manage my anxiety, so I could continue my course. I didn’t want to take them, because of the possible side-effects. But I was very dedicated to my training, so I did. I wanted to be a nurse so I could help other people, and to do so I had to help myself. But, as anxiety is a mental health condition, I was judged and pill-shamed.

A few months later I was prescribed trazodone, which is an antidepressant that can help lower anxiety and improve sleep. Trazodone did lower my anxiety, but a side-effect was increased suicidal thoughts. I would have such violent thoughts about suicide that I was afraid of my own self. After two weeks, I stopped having those violent suicidal thoughts. But I could no longer sleep, as I had become resistant to the tablets. So my anxiety increased, and my mood plummeted.

Two weeks after this, I planned to kill myself, and I went to hospital. I then had my first panic attack in two years, and I had to be given diazepam to calm down.

The Root Cause – Trauma

I know that anxiety is a mental health condition, and I know that panic attacks are sudden and intense feelings of anxiety. But after writing this, I feel that my anxiety and panic attacks are the side-effects of everything that has happened to me.

Abuse.
Homelessness.
Bullying.

So, I need to deal with the root cause of my anxiety and panic attacks.

Trauma.