My Secret

I wrote this to a friend who lived in Costa Rica, after he invited me to visit him several times. I hoped that after reading this blog post he could understand why I always declined his invitations. But now I'm too old to care what people think about me, so I'm telling my secret. What follows was part of a personal email to him.

All of us have secrets. We have things in our history that we are ashamed of, and we don't tell anyone about them, even though keeping them to ourselves is another kind of burden. I had a secret for over 50 years, and now I'm going to tell the world (or at least the tiny part of the world that reads my blog).

I wrote about this before in a blog post titled Panic You should read it if you want to understand panic, but for now, just stay with me here. 

When I was about 22 years old I began suffering from panic attacks. You may not understand them but they are disabling and a sufferer finds himself avoiding many situations. Some people who have panic attacks become housebound. They cannot leave their homes. Some people can walk as far as their mailbox but then they have to go back inside their house. I did not become housebound only because I took a lot of Valium, which is a tranquilizer.

At this same time, I was working in Burlington, North Carolina. My job sometimes required me to travel. I flew to San Francisco, Denver, Albuquerque, New York City, and smaller cities whose names I've forgotten. I enjoyed traveling. I also loved flying and I even took flying lessons for a while. I quit taking them because I didn't want to fly an airplane while taking tranquilizers and I didn't want to have a panic attack while at the controls of an airplane.

Eventually I had to quit my engineering job as well as my dream of flying. For about twelve years I could not work at all.

I cannot explain how a panic attack feels, but it is terrible. A person with panic attacks watches their life grow more and more limited as time passes and they discover more and more situations that cause a panic attack. For years I had to take a lot of Valium to go into a restaurant. No one in my family understood it, but they accepted that I was suffering and they helped me to the extent they could. I was very lucky to have people in my life, including a medical doctor, who supported me in my situation.

When I had a full-blown panic attack, I could not even see the people around me. They were like shadows. Nor could I hear anything. I got to a point where I could not go through the grocery store checkout or order a burger from a fast-food counter. I went to a doctor and he hospitalized me for several weeks. He said I was suffering from "nervous exhaustion and chronic fatigue".

When I was about 28, my best friend and I bought a camper van and traveled all around the country. For meals we usually ate in restaurants. (Sometimes we would cook a simple meal on the van's little propane stove.) When I went into a restaurant and ordered a meal, I was, of course, in a state of anxiety. By the time my meal was brought to my table, I was so anxious that I could not remember how to eat. I would pick up my fork and stop. Then I would think: stick the fork into some food. So I would do that, then stop again. Then I would think: raise the fork to your mouth, and I would do that and then stop again. Then I would tell myself to put the fork in my mouth.  Then I would repeat everything, step by step, to get the next bite of food to my mouth.

You probably think it is impossible to "forget" how to eat. But a panic attack consumes all of your brain. Your adrenal glands pour adrenaline into your bloodstream, your heart pounds, and every bit of your brain screams "RUN."  It is as if you are being attacked by lions. A primitive part of your brain takes over. Your body goes into overdrive. Your muscles become stronger. Your heart pumps more oxygen to them. For a short while you are stronger and able to run faster than you have ever been. In the jungle, in the days when people actually were attacked by animals, this rush of adrenaline was a good thing. It could save your life. But when you are sitting in your car stopped in traffic, or sitting in a business meeting, or dining in a restaurant, it is a very bad thing to have to deal with. I  have gone into a restaurant, ordered a meal, and then changed my order to takeout because I was not sure I could sit there long enough to eat my meal.

Panic attacks are the main reason I am single. How can I date women when all I want to do is get out of the place as fast as possible? But I became an expert at hiding the panic attacks. I could sit beside you and be having a panic attack and you would never know it.

The last time I flew on an airplane, I began to feel a panic attack starting. I had some Valium in my pocket and I swallowed it. Then I ordered a few shots of whiskey. I got through the flight, but I don't know if I'll get through another one.

Over the years, I have been to many doctors. I have been to psychotherapists. Didn't help. I've been to hypnotherapists. Didn't help. I tried a therapy called "systematic desensitization" that was administered by a physician. Didn't help. So I took all the therapy sessions all over again. Didn't help. I tried a therapy called "progressive relaxation". Didn't help. I tried EEG (brain-wave) bio-feeback. Didn't help. I took a pricey 12-week self-help course from a place in Charlotte, NC, called the Center for Help for Anxiety and Agoraphobia through New Growth Experiences (CHAANGE). Didn't help.

Things are a little better now. I take a medication (it's called an SSRI anti-depressant) that has a side effect of preventing panic attacks. However, the medicine doesn't prevent the anxiety that leads to the panic attack. The anxiety is still there. When I approach a certain situation that used to cause panic attacks, I can feel the anxiety grow stronger and stronger. But it no longer produces a panic attack. Instead, my body begins to have diarrhea. I have to stay glued to a toilet until I take a sufficient amount of Imodium, which is a "tranquilizer" for the intestines. By the time the episode ends, I am too sick to even drive a car. If I am out with someone, I have to ask that person to drive my car while I lie on the back seat. That has happened.

When you visited me, my main concern was about what I would do if I had so much anxiety and IBS (irritable bowel syndrome) that I could not drive. Neither of you have a license to drive. Fortunately, that did not happen; I had no problems. But as much as I enjoyed your visit, I had this shadow hanging over me. It is always present. It has hung over me for more than 50 years. And I know it will always be there. I guess all of us have some kind of personal demon and that was, and is, mine.

Panic or agoraphobia is a special kind of hell. I woud not wish it on my worst enemy. Yet I know I am not alone. Many people have it, but are reluctant to talk about it. No one can understand how crippling it is unless they have experienced it. 

So there, that is my secret that you have finally dragged out of me. I never talk about it because it is very embarrassing for me to tell people and I know they will not understand. But you have asked me to fly to Costa Rica enough times that I feel you deserve an explanation. I hope you can understand the reason I have said "No" has nothing to do with you. The reason is my personal problem. There are many things I would love to have been able to do during my life. I see people who have adventurous worlds, and go scuba diving and mountain climbing and flying jet planes, and I don't understand their world. I do not live in their world. I never will.

If you want more clarity on this subject, now you can go read Panic. And thanks for stopping by.