And on the third day, she crashed (with apologies to Jesus and ELO)

No ruby slippers, no wonderful wizard; just terror and bright backlighting...

Well, talk about talking too soon. After the general 'I'm alive!' joy of days one and two, I plummeted like a burning, nervy, post-chop Icarus tangled in charred plumage and mixed metaphors. 

Wednesday morning I woke up, and suddenly all was not well. I felt anxious - really, really anxious -  I didn't want the operation to have happened, and I was almost fainting with squeamishness about the wounds on my body and the notion of what had gone on internally when I was not there to see it. It reminded me of my poor childhood cat when he had an abscess on his back - he kept on twisting and turning and shivering his skin along his backbone to try and slide it off and get out from under it somehow. I wanted it all not to have happened, and I wanted to get out from under it. 

I fell into a massive, familiar pile of panic and anxiety, and took a Lorazepam to try to dull the edges, but somehow it combined with the leftover anaesthetic and took me in a horrible way - all wide-awake crazy thoughts and palpitations and trembles.

I couldn't sleep, I couldn't sit still, I couldn't breathe. I couldn't listen to my post-surgery relaxation CD because it made me want to faint, I couldn't take a Lorazepam because I was frightened of making it worse, I couldn't lie still because I was petrified of clots forming in my legs, and I felt absolute, complete, suffocating despair. I tried all the old tricks, and they didn't work. I got disassociation - my whole familiar world started looming and stretching in sinister ways, and I felt trapped in a waking nightmare. It was like a big, fat, supersized Ecstasy comedown (apologies for mature references!) but without the ecstasy (with a small or a big e). All agony, no ecstasy?

I convinced myself I had post-surgery trauma syndrome, that I had clots in my legs and internal bleeding, that I had an infection, that I was going mad, that I would have to have another surgery to fix this one and this would all happen again, and above all - that I was a colossal, self-indulgent hypochondriac who couldn't handle a routine operation like the rest of humanity. My thoughts were just completely and utterly out of control - the horse was galloping away towards the inferno and the rider was just freaking out on the sidelines with wet jodhpurs and a frayed whip. 

Needless to say, it wasn't a vintage few days. It turns out that it's not such an unusual reaction after all - apparently the body's hormonal and endocrine systems go haywire after surgery - and couple that with the general anaesthetic wearing off and some anxiety about recovery and you have a perfect recipe for panic-a-go-go. I just wish I knew that beforehand! 

It, however, remind me of a couple of panic-related things that are worth repeating:

1. Nothing REALLY works in a panic the way you want it to - because the body is specifically designed to create terror that is virtually impossible to override.  The whole point is that you're not meant to easily cognitively disassemble it - you're meant to fucking RUN. So I was reminded, at a cost, that the best thing to do is to grab on to something and hold on, and wait it out. To weather the storm and try desperately to hear the tiny, squeaky voice a mile off that stutters 'this will pass' in the face of the terrifying succubus screaming 'IT WILL NOT' in front of your face.

2. It does pass. I felt like I was in a horror film last week, and I'm calmly typing this now after a relatively happy couple of days. Yes, I'm still a bit quivery, but that always happens for a while after a storm of panic - I know I just have to wait it out until it completely passes again.

3. Anxiety and panic don't make you weak. This one is thanks to my stepmother, who came downstairs and wrapped me in a tight hug when she found me sobbing uncontrollably on my own, and told me about her experiences with panic and anxiety (she's also hard as fucking nails, and you would never, ever characterise her as weak or even approaching it) and shook me back to reality and self-respect. Everyone is flawed. Everyone has their vulnerable moments. But that's not what people remember of them, and that's not what they should remember of themselves. 

So. That's it. I think I've earned a bit of a relax at long last, so if you'll excuse me, I'm off to watch Ingrid Bergman give weird, face bruising non-kiss kisses to Cary Grant - I've got a week's worth of recovery DVDs to catch up on...

Nope, that's still not it - we can clearly see your lips aren't touching, guys...

An exciting journey through my medicine cabinet...

Me too!

I've got a very special treat for you guys today, so hold onto your pillboxes and lavender sachets...

 I thought I'd give you an quick run-down of the medication I take for anxiety - I'm really nosy and always want to know what other people take (and I assume you're like me), but also it's obviously also really crucial to get a sense of what works on the pharma front and what doesn't.

I think it's also important to be open and frank when discussing this kind of stuff - there should be no more stigma attached to the fact I take anti-depressants for this condition than if I was diabetic and had to have  regular insulin injections. Sadly, there is, but we can all do our bit by being OUT AND PROUD about pill popping for our condition, and not despising ourselves for having to do so.

1. Citalopram 20mg. An SSRI anti-depressant medication (Prozac is probably the most famous in this category). Mostly used for depression, but SSRIs are also very effective for anxiety and phobia related conditions.

Pros: For a lot of people these are the perfect solution - just that extra bit of serotonin is enough to tip them over into a calmer, happier place. But I've been on them for so long, I don't actually know if they work any more. I'm going to experiment with coming off them SLOWLY soon for the reasons below. Then we'll see if they were doing anything at all (eeek, the sword of anxious Damocles dangles above me )

Cons: There are tons, but all I've noticed in my case is their effect on...sexytime. People, they kill your libido. Like stone-cold DEAD. Mine is so decimated that RPatz could turn up at my house in a loincloth with a rose between his teeth, and there'd be nary a flicker in my loins. This is causing me no end of anxiety in itself, so I have to jump off the comfy serotonin cushion and see what happens. I'll obviously keep you updated on this experiment...

Amazingly, this is an actual ad from the 50s...

2. Pregabalin 100mg. A seizure and neuropathic pain medication that works on the brain's GABA receptors (weed works on the same brain bits apparently). They've only fairly recently worked out that this stuff is great for anxiety too, and it's now available on prescription for panic disorder and agoraphobia. Apparently doctors are reluctant to prescribe it because it costs a fortune, so you may have to visit a psychiatrist for a prescription first.

Pros: I found these amazingly effective and calming - much more so than SSRIs. I would highly, highly recommend these to anyone who is really suffering with generalised anxiety disorder, panic disorder or agoraphobia.

Cons: Can make you feel a bit stoned and dizzy when you first go on them, but that quickly fades. Also, I put on a bit of weight on these, but as with all of this stuff, you have to weigh* it up . Would you rather be a skinny wreck sobbing into your soft toys and pleading with your  boyfriend to not leave the house, or the calm owner of a spare tyre? (You can tell which one I plumped* for...)

*They can also make you amazingly proficient at creating hilarious fat puns.

3. Lorazepam (Ativan) 1mg PRN . A Benzodiazepine tranquiliser. Valium (Diazepam) is the most famous in this category, but does absolutely nothing for me. These are absolute lifesavers, but are only to be taken sparingly. I take one as and when I need one, but try to keep them in reserve only for very bad panic attacks, as they have huge addictive potential. BUT this doesn't mean you can't take them almost every day for a couple of weeks in a massive crisis, so don't do what I did and freak out and sob and wail each time before you take one because you're afraid of turning into an addict and losing your job/home/family and ending up hooking for cash etc etc etc.

Pros: They are God's/Big Pharma's way of giving us respite when we're going through sheer hell, so don't be afraid to use these (or be intimidated away from them by incompetent doctors) on occasion. If you're worried, seek reassurance from a professional psychiatrist (not therapist or counsellor or doctor) who can explain the pros and cons more thoroughly to you.

Cons: They're very addictive, and are not a long-term, daily solution. But in the short term, they can give you the clarity and respite to seek a more sustainable long-term solution, and can help you to take big first steps (leaving the house, getting on a plane etc) toward recovery.

Hooray for tranquillisers - they bring us peace and enable us to hang out the washing without crying!