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Anxiety- The Party in July

Hey guys. I just wanted to say thank you to all of you who have been reading my posts, whether you've been here from the beginning, whether you've just started, whether I've known you personally for years...just seriously. Thank you.

I have always enjoyed writing. I had so many journals as a kid. Just ask my mom. I think at one point I had five at once, maybe even seven. 
Yes, I wrote in all of them. 
Writing has always been my therapy for so many things.

I have been wanting to talk about something that has been going on in my life these last few months. Not the reviews, not my husband's book.
Just life and what was going on with me. 

I just didn't really know if I should talk about it. I made the decision today that, yes, I should talk about it. Why? Because maybe some of you out there or someone new might stumble across these posts and think, Hey, I've been there too. or I'm going through that right now. 
Maybe you know someone else who is or has gone through it. Maybe you want to understand it better.
I'm talking about anxiety.

Now listen, I've had panic attacks and minor anxiety about things over the years, but what I went through the last two and a half months was like nothing I've ever experienced before. Okay?
It was worse than my two bouts of postpartum depression, worse than being sick, worse than losing good friends, literally one of the worse things I have ever gone through.
The scariest part about it was that no one could understand what I was feeling. 

It started sometime back in July. Or maybe it started sooner? I honestly can't remember. Maybe it was always there, but I didn't start to really feel it's effects on me until the very end of July.
During that month I kept getting easily irritated and emotional out of nowhere. I wasn't sleeping too well. I was busy taking care of so many things with the family, home schooling, blogging, cooking, cleaning, running errands, the usual...but for some reason toward the end of the month things were just way more overwhelming than usual.

One day I woke up and one of my fingers was sore. It was somewhat swollen. I didn't know exactly why, just that it was fatter than every other finger on both of my hands. I thought well, maybe it was from poking it with a fork or knife or something in the dishwasher. It was a vague image that kept popping into my head. I hadn't slept much, so had that actually happened. 
I know that it hurt. I also thought maybe it was a bite of some sort. There were no marks of any sort that I could see. I figured it was somewhere under the nail or just too tiny. My finger was so swollen and throbbing. That night it was hard to sleep because it was throbbing so bad. I couldn't even keep the Neosporin bandaid lightly wrapped around it (a few people suggested this, saying it would help with the swelling if it was a bite or cut of some sort.) The next day it was even more sore. Everyone kept telling me not to worry. They said, soak it in warm salt water a few times a day. Keep it clean. You'll be fine. 
I can't afford a hospital bill so I followed their advice. I found pretty much the same advice online as well. By day four, I didn't know how much more I could stand. 
Guess what else was happening on day four??? Oh, my son's 9th birthday. And yes, we were having a party. I had barely slept for maybe about three or four hours the night before. I would be cooking and putting practically everything together solo that day because my husband had to work a bit before the party. 
I did have my niece and son eventually help a little, but there were several things I had to do on my own, swollen finger and all.
I was having the WORST day ever. Nothing was going right. I burnt the desserts, overcooked some of the food, my homemade triple layer Minecraft cake fell apart (I let the kiddos redecorate and have fun with that one since, well, why not? It had already been destroyed by yours truly).
 I burst into tears whenever anyone even tried to talk to me. I was an emotional trainwreck, even minutes before the party had even begun. I started the party later than planned. I didn't want everyone to see me with my mascara and eyeliner trailing down my cheeks and onto my dress. 

By the time the first person arrived, I had cleaned myself up as much as possible and tried to put on a happy face. I was feeling terrible, but I was not going to allow my emotions destroy my son's big day. 
Isn't this what us mothers and fathers do sometimes? I'd do anything to keep my kids happy...

When one of my friend's arrived, I felt like I was going to unravel in front of her. I felt like she could see it in my face. But I kept right on smiling. Showed her my swollen finger and whatnot. 

More people arrived, and I just kept on pushing through. I got a bit tongue tied at several moments, but I kept up the damn charade. 
We did pinata time outside in the horrible heat, food, talking...
A few people left and the party was almost over. I was talking to one of my oldest friends that I've known for years, telling her a little bit about what was going on. I started feeling really weird when I came inside. I felt like I was overheating, my heart started beating really fast, the room was blurry. 
I told her I didn't feel right and I placed my hands on the kitchen island, trying to focus. 
She was talking to me, I could hear her voice, but it started to disappear. All I could see were colors on the white walls in front of me. I started seeing what looked like these big yellow, four pointed stars--(you know, they look like clown eye makeup...sounds strange I know, but it's what I saw)
The colors of the walls started folding up. The best way that I can describe that is to compare it to an accordion. You know, the way it's flaps open and close? Like that.

Next thing I know I hear loud screaming for my husband. I couldn't see anything at all. I thought it was me screaming. I realized I was laying on the floor. 
My friend was beside me, talking to me, asking if I was okay. She said I had passed out. I think I got up even though she told me I should probably sit down. I didn't know what was going on. I was freaked out. We walked over to the sofa. It was too hot. Then it was too cold. I didn't know where everyone else was. I remember she said that my eyes were super dilated. She said my body had been shaking pretty bad before I fell. She told me she caught me and we slowly fell together. 
I was still so confused. My head still felt very strange. I kind of remember her mentioning something about a shower and I said something like, "Should I pour cold water on myself?"
Don't ask. I don't know why I said that either.

My niece came downstairs. We told her to go get my husband.
Luckily the kiddos had all been upstairs playing in my son's entertainment room and only my one friend and I had been downstairs when this happened. No one had even really heard her scream because the t.v. was so loud and they were all pretty distracted. 

We hadn't even had cake and ice cream or opened the presents yet.

So much more to tell. I don't want to drag on too much and I'm pretty exhausted right now. I've learned that sleep is very important. I try and get as much as possible these days, so I'm going to end this here and continue again in a few days. Trust me. You'll wanna hear the rest of it. 

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