Last night I had an awesome panic attack. And when I say awesome, I mean absolutely horrible. I found out that my loan for this semester doesn’t cover all of my school cost. I’m under by about $2000, which is a lot of money to me. Amelia, why don’t you take out another loan? Well, good citizen, it’s because my older brother is cosigning for me since I have absolutely no credit to my name (though I am working on building it up) and every time I take out a loan, it puts a ding in his credit. I still have two more good-sized loans to take out so I can finish my undergrad, so I don’t want to take another one out (plus he doesn’t want me to).
In any case, I’ll figure out how to pay it. That isn’t the point. The point is that the moment I saw I owed $2000, a million voices in my head started talking all at once, a million different thoughts. But all of them led to the same feeling: guilt. It’s difficult to tell you everything I felt guilty about because I don’t remember what most of my thoughts were and because my guilt is so complicated it would take weeks to fully unravel it.
I had my panic attack at 9:30, before my staff meeting which started at 10:15. Needless to say I was not 100% at my meeting. In fact, one of my body parts decided to leave me. I was about to get off of my couch and head to my staff meeting when I realized my left arm was’t responding. It was dead, stuck to my side, tense and tingling. I knew that it is very possible for anxiety and depression to manifest itself physically and result in dead limbs, but it had never happened to me, and it was a relatively mild panic attack. To think that my mental whatever I was having was severe enough that my brain shut a part of my body down was a terrifying thought.
I went to bed at 12:30 am, my arm still stiff against my side but slowly coming to, trying to push the voices away and fall asleep.