Exploring.

The other day, I had a panic attack. Not particularly unusual; postpartum hormones are still charging around my body like a freight train, and the constant sleep deprivation that comes with a newborn tends to play havoc with the nervous system.
But anyway, I was about to go out for breakfast with Ant, and I'm reminiscing about how it used to feel prickly for me if someone suggested heading out for brekky first thing in the AM, whereas now my immediate reaction is Yes! Let's bloody go! It appears that while remembering this, my body reminds me viscerally, and I feel that prickly sensation lurking around the back of my neck and I take a breath and think, oh.
Nevermind, it's just a memory. Let's go.
So we are out at the cafe, a new one we've not been to before. In between my cappuccino arriving and the food, I suddenly feel myself splitting down the middle. Here it is, I think. I feel sick. I feel hot and cold all over. I can genuinely feel the morning swirling around in my gut and I think, I'm actually sick. Surely. This is sickness. But there's the other side of me who says, "is it, Lauren? I don't think it is. and, even if it is, why don't we just see what happens? If you're sick, you might spew, but is that even so bad, anyway? Why does it have to spell the end of the world? Why dont you just sit, and wait, and see."
So I sit there at the table, quietly assessing what to do. I ask myself what it is that I'm REALLY afraid of.
Looking around the cafe, all the people sitting, talking and eating, I think, I am afraid of being seen. I am afraid of humiliating myself somehow, of feeling like the strangest person here, of all these people SEEING me in a moment that I can't control.
As I think about this, I watch the people around me and I consider these fears, trying to match them to the situation. These people are just people. Humans, like me. I don't think a single one of them would judge me if I were sick, in fact, I imagine each of them would actually be kind and compassionate, as most humans are. I bet if I asked each of them, have you ever felt scared? Deeply worried about being judged or ashamed? They would all say, god yes. Yes.

After this, I feel a settling, of sorts. My tummy still swirls but my chest unclenches. My shoulders drop, just a little, but they drop.
I continue to sit, I breathe and I talk. I eat and I consider, always asking more questions to my fear as it ebbs and flows.
Just before we leave, I go to the toilet. I'd half been avoiding this, because sometimes I still equate the toilet as a place of panic, the point of no return.
But I go to the toilet, I wash my hands, and as I come back to the table I think, this is ok. I Still feel sick, I still might be sick, but I will watch and wait.
In the car, I take a deep inhale, holding the breath at the top before exhaling fully after a few seconds.
"Oh!" Says Ant, "what's wrong? What's happened?"
I realise that he has realised what's happening - I'm having a panic attack and he's onto it.
I tell him, "I'm having really bad panic. It started back at the cafe. But it's ok, I'm just exploring. Trying out different methods."
"Ahh," he says "having a little exploration!" And we don't need to talk about it anymore. He knows I'm doing my thing, I know he's there if I need him.
I sit and I breathe, filling my lungs, emptying my lungs, noticing the changes that occur within my mind and physical body with each breath.
And then, I get distracted (by Google Maps, because I'm the navigator) and it's only when I'm home hours later that I realise,
I'm not sick. It was just anxiety, after all.