Warning. Graphic. Anxiety attack.

I'm at my cousin Elizabeth's house, on her couch, chatting away on MSN to my friend Brad who lives in Michigan. We're talking about the usual stuff (our game we play) and general 'How are things?'-ness. I start to tell him about my anxiety attacks, and my mental state, when I start to get really sad. I well up a bit as he tells me that things will get better. I know they will, and tell him about the pills I'm on, and how many attacks I'm having, and I start to cry. I'm not sure why I'm crying, but I am. And I can't stop it. I tell Brad 'Bear with me, I'm having an attack'. He tells me okay, and I sit the laptop in front of me on the couch. I bend my knees, and bury my face in them, bring my arms up to my head, and grab onto my hair. Why I do this, I don't know. But it makes me feel slightly in control during it. I cry uncontrollably as I pull on my hair, until I feel a hand on my wrist. I look up and it's Elizabeth. She pulls me up to my feet and tells me to come to the bedroom so she can talk me through it.


I drift in and out of consciousness walking to her bedroom, and when I get to her bed, I fall onto it, face first, and bury my head in the pillows and cry harder. Liz is grabbing at my hands, trying to free them from my hair so that I don't yank out chunks of hair again.

My lungs are quivering, shaking, and not working very well. I can't control my lungs, and they're only taking very small quick breaths. My heart is beating out of my chest and I'm beginning to get scared. I drift out of consciousness again for a bit while I hear Liz talking to me, trying to keep me conscious. I stay this way for about 2 minutes until I can't breathe. I have an over-whelming feeling that I'm being choked. I pull at my shirt to get it away from my neck... the shirt isn't touching my neck. I take my shirt off anyways, and lay facedown on the bed again. I pass out again for who knows how long. Later, Liz tells me that during this time I am going from hot to cold faster then she can keep up with the cold face cloths and blankets. My legs were shaking uncontrollably, left hand shaking but for some odd reason not the right one. Breathing is erratic at best, short, sharp breaths. Elizabeth keeps talking to me so that I could concentrate on something, anything. I fade in and out of consciousness. Feel her rubbing my back, and her telling me to hold her hand and squeeze. After about 20 minutes, I can kinda open my eyes, but I still can't move. I realize Elizabeth is talking to me and my breathing is changing. I am able to take deeper and deeper breaths. I lay there, shaking, and trying to control my breathing, while staring off into space. I finally blink, and am able to focus on Liz. She has my fast acting pill in her hand a glass of water. She tells me to take it, but I can't move to lift my head to sip the water. I swallow the pill without water, and lay my head back down, trying to control my body and mind. Slowly, I'm able to move, and I sit up. My entire body is stiff, in pain, and like a dead weight.

I sit there for about 5 minutes, before getting up, going to the couch and passing out. My body isn't able to handle the emotional turmoil from the attack and I sleep well. That is... with some Lorazepam in my system to knock me out.

The next morning, I feel like I got hit by a truck. Slowly wake up, and talk to Liz about my attack, since I have little to no recollection of the night before.

I suffer from severe anxiety attacks. This was probably my worst one.
Just thought I'd give everyone a heads up as to what I go through.

:)
Love you all.
-T