The upside of panic attacks.

I've had panic attacks off and on for the last ten years now.  Thankfully in that time I've learned to control them much better-- there hasn't been a full-blown one in a long time now-- but after being so sporadic the last few years, lately they seem to be coming on a little bit more frequently.  It's a lot of stuff that contributes to them:  Fucked up sleep schedule, stress, shitty eating habits, depression.  I get these flashes just about every day now.  Just real quick shots of terror, most of it centered around the fact that I'm mortal and I'm going to die one day.  Which sucks, you know?  I've been worrying about death since I was twenty.  Isn't that what the whole mid-life crisis thing is supposed to be about?    

Anyway, had one today walking to the grocery store.  On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being nervous and 10 being about to pass out, this was a 4.  Truth be told it started before I left the house.  I could feel the dread and the unease, the tightness in my chest.  But part of dealing with these things is just trying to push through that shit and go about your business.  A few hundred yards from the front door is when it really hit.  Breathing starting to go ragged, heart beating faster, the world closing in around me despite walking in the fresh air on what might be the nicest day of the year so far.  Like I said though, you've got to keep going.  So I kept walking and as luck would have it, one of my favorite songs came on the iPod.  One of those songs that no matter what mood you're in it's going to lift you up, if only a little.  And it worked-- the beat, the rhythm, it gave me something to focus on until I was able to pull myself together.  By the time I'd reached the corner the exercise high had kicked in and I was almost normal again. 

At this point you might be wondering where the upside part comes in, because so far the experience sounds pretty crap.  Well it is, but this is how I see it.  Before I left I was planning on buying some beef sticks, chicken wings and brownies.  Once I'd had my little episode however, the thought of eating any of that stuff...no fucking way.  I walked out of there with a bottle of orange juice, fake vcgetarian ground "beef" and a bag of Sun Chips.  

And that negative reinforcement, as sick as it sounds, is the upside.  For every moment of near crippling hysteria I've suffered through over the past decade I've ended up doing something good to make up for it.  No liter bottles of soda (no soda at all actually).  No Soft Batch cookies every night.  A salad every once in awhile.  Eating out less.  Walking more.  Do I always stick to it?  Of course not; if I did I wouldn't have been thinking about getting brownies in the first place.  But even if it's only for a month or two at a time, I'm living better than I was, and eventually the changes become permanent and benefit me in the long run.  With any luck, I'll make it to an age where it's actually expected to be worried about dying.  Hopefully by then I'll have learned to accept it.