Anxiety

Anxiety was the last symptom, the last psychological cancer, to take hold of me after working. It came unexpectedly. I was 53kg when I went to see a doctor at a medical centre in Warringah Mall in Sydney. I said to the doctor that I was happy overall with my weight and that I just wanted to lose a couple of more kilograms. He prescribed me a medication called Duromine. I took this for a few weeks, with what seemed like little effect. I’d never taken a prescribed medication before other than basic ones such as paracetamol. Hence, I had no knowledge of the possible serious side effects of pharmaceutical drugs. Therefore, one day, instead of taking one tablet I took two. Not long afterwards, I was sitting as a lunch guest at the dining room table of someone I knew when I felt my heart start to race and pound heavily in my chest. Within moments, I could not even take a breath. Although I tried to suck in air, it was as though my throat was closed. I felt like I was asphyxiating. Panicked, I instinctively stood up and bent forward as though this might help. Although that manoeuvre didn’t help, within about 15 seconds something physical inside me let me take a breath again. I almost collapsed from the terror and shock of what had happened; my legs were like jelly. I couldn’t stop shaking.

I was immediately transported to the closest Emergency Department (ED), which was in Balmain, Sydney. I was monitored, and taken off of that medication. However, I was either on such high alert for it to happen again, or my body was still sensitised to the drug (or both), that I began having on-going episodes of tachycardia (racing heart) and dyspnoea (shortness of breath).  Although I know that the first time was definitely medication-induced, I became phobic of taking any medications after this experience. I developed panic attacks as a result, which I’ve been fighting on and off ever since. Sometimes they will go away for years, and then come back when I’m experiencing something stressful. When I have them though they can feel debilitating and I truly feel as though I am going to die. I’ve driven to the ED and just sat outside in my car too many times to count; simultaneously scared to death and waiting for the episode to pass. It usually does within about 10 minutes. The career that I entered into made me feel even more ridiculous to have this occur to me. It was only something that I could try to control by letting go and breathing through it. I still can’t seem to stop it from occurring. Although I do have a tendency to be sensitive now to any form of stimulant-type drug, I don’t usually take any medications at all, and there is no other known medical reason for me to have recurring symptoms.