September has been full on. Every week there's been something above and beyond the normal quiet chaos that is family life, and this last week was no exception. Thursday I was up in Dublin for the Reachout.com technology for well-being conference, and yesterday I was presenting at the Grow AGM. Both were awesome. I get incredible energy from speaking at events like this, and love having the chance to meet people who are so passionate about what they do. But, unfortunately, it comes at a cost.
I always find after doing anything like this it's followed by a dip in mood. I guess it's inevitable after the nervous anticipation, then the adrenaline of actually standing up and speaking in front of people, and the fallout when said adrenaline wears off. Friday I was in pretty lousy form, although to be fair, not only did I speak at the conference Thursday, I also had nightmarish logistics to contend with getting both to and from the venue and was physically shattered as well as emotionally drained by the time I got home Thursday night. But, on top of that on Friday I also had the anticipation of yesterday. Thankfully, it went well - I think! I spoke for about half an hour, no one walked out mid talk, and there was plenty of discussion from the group afterwards.
But today? Not so awesome. I knew I'd be tired, anyone would be. I tried to go spinning, I knew I needed to do something to bring myself back to reality although I really, really, didn't want to. I've had to push myself incredibly hard the last week or so to make myself do anything at all, and this morning was no exception. I was still in my jammies at 10.50, and needed to leave by 11. To say motivation was somewhat lacking is putting it mildly. But I made it. I got dressed, went to the gym and got on the bike. But my legs turned to lead. Pure lead. I could do nothing. No matter what I told myself, no matter how hard I pushed, it just wasn't happening, so after about 15 minutes I gave up and decided to come home. Seemed a reasonable decision, no point in overdoing it. But things got worse as soon as I left. There's a set of stairs immediately outside the room we spin in - I made it half way down before I had a panic attack. An actual, full blown, shaking, crying, sweaty, pins and needles in my face panic attack. This hasn't happened for years, and certainly not while I've been on medication, so it kind of took me by surprise. At least this time I knew what it was, and what to do, the first time I was clueless. Also, the rest of the gym was mercifully quiet so I didn't have an audience, and I'm reasonably confident my fellow spinners were too busy being tortured to notice. At least I hope they were.
So that was it. I stayed put till I could feel my face properly again and managed to breath at least semi normally. I got myself home. The rest of the day has been shaky, but ok. I'm on edge though. I don't like feeling like this. Bitchface has been working hard to make herself heard again, primarily by telling me that I mostly made a show of myself at both presentations, and that rather than smiling in agreement or support, people were in fact laughing at me. I'm working equally hard to dismiss that thought before it takes hold. I'm incredibly forgetful at the moment. And not in a cute little where-did-I-leave-my-keys-again kind of way, more of a losing words/ability to spell/recollection of events of the previous day kind of way. Finding myself in a room and forgetting why I'm there. Starting a sentence and losing the gist of it half way through. Another thing I've apparently been doing (I say apparently because I wasn't aware of it till Hubby pointed it out) is starting a job, getting distracted halfway through and wandering off to start something else that will similarly remain unfinished. It's not an altogether inspiring state of affairs.
So what next? I guess I need to mind myself a little. It's been full on, I know that can take it's toll, so now I need to back off a bit. Thankfully, there's nothing out of the ordinary going on this week (or if there is I've forgotten!). I need a couple of early nights, I need to try and feed myself well, and I need to get myself back on an even keel. I'll be ok.
Labels: anxiety, bitchface, breathing, concentration, mood, negative thoughts, panic attacks, Reachout, Self care, slowing down, symptoms, tiredness