Transcriber: sadegh zabihi Reviewer: Theresa Ranft
My first goal here today is not to have a panic attack right on stage.
I have an anxiety disorder called Obsessive Compulsive Disorder,
or OCD.
I have a form of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
that causes me to become anxious or frightened
when something wrong or unexpected happens.
Like, if somebody sits at my seat at the table.
It also causes intrusive thoughts.
These are thoughts that come unbidden
to my head about things that I've done in the past or things that I might do.
Things that could happen by chance
or because everybody secretly hates me.
As you might imagine,
these intrusive thoughts are really quite anxiety producing.
And this anxiety
can manifest in different physical and emotional responses,
one of which is the panic attack
which I'll be talking about more in depth later.
But, the thing that made me
really hyperaware of the effects of my OCD
and made me determined to spread awareness
about anxiety disorders in general,
is that my own symptoms were not always this severe.
So, I want to start at the beginning.
As long as I can remember,
I've always been an obsessive-minded child.
I would take a thing, good or bad,
and roll it over in my head, over and over.
I was also really shy and awkward
and I know, especially at Carleton,
a lot of you are thinking, "Yeah, me too".
(Laughter)
Because, you know, there are a lot of shy, awkward people
and all of us have our little obsessions.
I don't know if there is a scale for being shy, awkward and obsessive,
but I always felt like I was toward the high end of the range.
"Weirdo" and "freak" were terms I readily accepted as a teenager.
And when all the other girls my age were really into the Backstreet Boys,
I'm dating myself,
I was obsessed with Star Wars.
I sort of still am.
Like, I got in trouble for coming home late for curfew once as a teenager
and as punishment my parents took away my Star Wars stuff.
And I thought that the world had collapsed.
I also had on-again, off-again issues with anxiety and depression.
And anxiety and depression really go hand in hand,
like two best friends who like to corner a third person
and make them feel like shit.
(Laughter)
So, there I was,
this anxious, awkward
obsessive and sometimes depressed girl.
And that was life,
that was my normal.
When I got a little older and started coming out of my shell
and meeting people with similar interests to me,
like the folks here at the Sci-Fi House at Carleton.
Benton House, anyone? Woo!
(Laughter)
I started actually opening up and talking to people about my feelings,
and I started to realize that there were other people like me
that suffered from anxiety and depression.
And suddenly, instead of feeling like a freak,
I felt like just kind of a normal, anxiety/depression story
with a little obsessive behavior thrown in for good measure.
And that actually felt pretty cool.
So, that was my life.
I also started to get a little help then,
I saw my first psychiatrist, got my first meds.
And, you know, things were going pretty good.
And then I got a really bad concussion while I was playing hockey.
Love the sport, still play it, but it was bad.
That's when things took a nosedive from me feeling
like normal, it-runs-in-the-family crazy
to like scary crazy.
That's when the intrusive thoughts started getting louder
and louder.
This clicker sucks.
(Laughter)
And it was bad. It was really, really bad.
I was angry all the time.
It mostly came out at my husband, but my road rage was also pretty epic.
While I was being an ass to other people,
I was also being an ass to myself.
I was not eating.
I was down to a size zero
and that monkey was saying, "You can get skinnier."
And ...
I didn't want to accept that I had a problem.
I wanted to feel like I was kicking ass.
But, I knew deep down
that there was something wrong, because I wasn't sleeping
and my marriage was going through the shitter.
But, trying to even think about changing my habits,
really thinking about changing any of my habits
would give me massive anxiety.
And this anxiety was leading to panic attacks.
Panic attacks are one of the most ...
frightening manifestations of anxiety.
I know if you've never had a panic attack, the name sounds kind of lame.
We all have those moments of panic like,
"Oh, did I leave the oven running?"
or "My kid just bolted out into the middle of the street."
Or maybe more for you:
"I forgot to study for that test."
But none of these are panic attacks.
The Mayo Clinic's website says,
"A panic attack is a sudden episode of intense fear
that triggers severe physical reactions
when there is no real danger or apparent cause.
Panic attacks can be very frightening.
When a panic attacks occurs
you might think you're losing control, having a heart attack, or even dying."
That's a pretty good definition,
but what does it really ...
feel like?
That's what I'm going to try to show you.
So,
it's a pretty normal day,
but maybe a little bit stressful,
like at a performance evaluation at work
or packing for vacation.
I'm doing something pretty normal and I start to feel ...
"off."
I know something's not quite right.
I'm getting ...
tingly.
A tingling numbness creeps up my neck
and all over my face, and seeps into my head.
I feel dizzy.
So, I sit down.
(Breathing deeply)
Sometimes I think maybe
I just didn't eat enough today,
so I grab for some crackers or a candy bar, or whatever I have.
My head is feeling fuzzy.
As I'm sitting there,
sometimes I think, "Oh my gosh, it's a seizure or heart attack or" -
But, I know better.
I know it's a mounting panic attack when my heart starts beating
harder,
not faster really, just ...
hard.
Like the heartbeat in the background of a horror film.
Now I'm getting scared
thinking, "No ...
no, not here.
Not now."
(Breathless)
Right now, the right medication
might help, might bring this crescendo back down
and end the panic attack,
but sometimes even the right medication doesn't always help.
I feel ...
off and ...
I want to sit still, but ...
my body just won't listen.
So I pace,
I lash out.
The tears come now.
Broken, dry cries.
Weak, angry, shrieks break through
and my brain is screaming,
(Loudly) "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"
Not a real cry,
nothing that could be cathartic can come out.
It all gets caught in my throat and in my head.
Oh, it's -
I get angry,
mad at this feeling, myself, everything!
I pound my head with my fists.
I want to bang it against the floor.
I want to smash my skull and make it all end!
(Rapid breathing)
Sometimes I do,
I just hit myself and I can't hold back
and it feels like relief suddenly.
That physical pain and I crave physical pain:
cuts,
burns, bruises.
And then that scares me even more.
I look up at my shelf of pill bottles and I think,
"I could take them all.
I could end it right now."
But, I don't.
(Sobbing) I don't.
Real tears come now.
(Sobbing)
So sad tears.
But, now I can lay down.
Just wait for it to be over.
Eventually ...
it ends.
It always does end.
And I'm still here.
(Breathing deeply)
And with my sanity coming back,
with my head clearing,
I'm grateful to still be here,
and that it always stops eventually.
This is not an easy thing to live with,
knowing that it could happen at any moment, any place,
at home, at work, at the tattoo parlor -
that's happened.
And not a lot of people talk about it even though a lot of people go through it.
When I first posted to my blog
about my experiences with panic attacks,
I was surprised when people started contacting me
from all corners of my life,
on the Internet,
to tell me about their experiences.
And to thank me for speaking out,
and told me I was brave.
It got me thinking, you know.
These days everything seems to have an awareness month,
or a ribbon or some picture you can share on Facebook to spread awareness.
Well, I've made this my panic attack awareness effort
and now I hope you all know a little bit more
about they really feel like.
As for me, my husband did finally get me to see a doctor.
It turns out that my anxiety and obsessive tendencies
had basically been given steroids by the concussion
and I was diagnosed with severe OCD.
And we started the dance of trying to find the right combination
of meds and therapy.
We're still figuring it out.
I still have panic attacks.
But luckily, thanks to some wonderful people
and some magical chemicals,
they are fewer and further in between.
And blogging about it and talking about it is part of my therapy too.
I'm very blessed to have such a wonderful support structure
here in my life,
and to have been given these opportunities
to talk openly about my anxiety disorder.
Forty million adult Americans,
according to the National Institute for Mental Health,
have anxiety disorders.
That's just over 18% of the population,
so chances are you know someone
with an anxiety disorder,
whether it's a friend, a colleague, or even yourself.
Of the 40 million who have anxiety,
15% of them
experience the terror of panic attacks
and it's twice as common in women as in men.
Cause we're lucky.
(Laughter)
When I'm having a panic attack
the best thing that people can do for me
is to just be with me and let me know that they're there for me,
and will do things I ask that I say I need,
whether that's to open a window,
or let me run away from the room, or turn out the lights -
none of which you can do on an airplane, by the way, it turns out.
(Laughter)
So, if you're there when someone you know is having a panic attack,
it's hard to breathe in the middle of an attack,
much less speak.
So instead of asking them over and over,
"Are you OK? What's wrong? Are you OK? What are you panicking about?
What can I do? Are you OK? Are you OK?"
Just be there.
Let them know you support them
and sit with them as they ride out those waves of panic because ...
you can't tell a panicking person to calm down.
That's like trying to tell someone with a gaping wound to just stop bleeding.
(Laughter)
But, what you can do is let them know you're there for them.
It may make you feel helpless,
but your presence is more comforting than you may realize.
And then when it's over,
then you can ask what you can do for next time,
if anything, really.
But, one thing we can all do
is work together to end the stigma surrounding mental health disorders,
like anxiety,
so that everybody who needs help can feel safe in asking for it.
You can help by showing respect to people who seek the aid
of therapists, psychiatrists, and medications.
Instead of telling someone to work harder or worry less,
tell them that you're there for them
and you understand these things can be a struggle.
If you have anxiety, it's not your fault.
Help is available in many forms.
I started getting help by working with my primary care physician,
but there are also hotlines and websites
such as The Anxiety and Depression Association of America
at adaa.org.
In short,
if you or someone you know has an anxiety disorder,
give help, get help, speak out.
You're not alone.
(Applause)