Battling dragons.

So I should probably explain where I've been this past week... not on a plane back to Idaho, at least.

I occasionally suffer from anxiety attacks. It all started when I was 13 and became ill on a family trip. All I wanted was to go home. For years after that, whenever I would go away (trips, girls camp, etc) I would get ill and have to come home. That's my safe haven to a fear-seized mind - home.
Thanks to lots of counseling and lovely medication, I was able to overcome this and leave home and eventually come to live in the UK. A place I love and, as you can tell from previous posts, was so obviously excited to come back to...

Well, this past week, the panic attacks decided they'd lain dormant long enough. I mean, it's not like I've been going through severe amounts of stress. I think my poor body just couldn't cope anymore.  Each morning I would wake up wanting to go home to Idaho. My chest feels like it is full of freezing cold air. Sometimes, I can't breathe. And I don't want to move. This desire to go home varied between going for just a week and just bagging it all and GOING home. I didn't want to be here anymore. I didn't like Edinburgh. I wanted to be back in Idaho. Which, of course, makes complete sense. I should leave Edinburgh, my programme, renege on a six-month lease, and go home... where I have no job and, much though I love Sugar City, not a lot of prospects in employment. Not to mention the student loans and other stuff.
When it was especially bad, I even looked up plane tickets home. Practically every day. The price of plane tickets has kept me here this week.

The worst part is looking into the mirror and not recognizing the person looking back at you. I wasn't looking at myself. I didn't know that person. Stacey was gone.
Yet, I'm still here. Thanks, in part, to a mom who has let me call her every day and forbade me to come home. Thanks to almost daily priesthood blessings from members of my church. Thanks to a lot of prayer and pleading.

That and many, many, many friends who've told me to hang in there. These friends have given me hugs and talks and blessings and phone numbers. Who let me crash at their place twice in one week because I didn't want to be alone.

And the doctor I bullied into giving me medication.
 In return, I'm doing some work with Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. I'll let you know how that goes.

I see more of myself when I look in the mirror now.

Now I'm sitting in my flat with a new couch and fridge/freezer that actually works.
Today I'm good. Today I'm sticking with it.

I may have to make it hour by hour, but I'll make it.
I have no idea why this had to happen, but I've been promised to know eventually.

One good thing, I'm not eating... so the weight is just falling off. Not the ideal weight-loss plan, but it works.

To end, as it's Remembrance Sunday here in the UK, I want to say thank you to all who serve and support those who serve to protect us.

Carry on!

Ta luvs.