Impending Doom Pt 1
I don't know how many parts to this there will be, but I want to tackle certain events I've experienced to see if they have led to my anxiety issues. I'm sure they have. A textbook symptom of anxiety and panic disorders is a sense or feeling of 'impending doom.' It may be hard to describe unless you also feel or have felt this. Anyways, maybe sharing will encourage others to write their events out.
Pt 1.
No one in my family has ever aged 'gracefuly.' Lots of doctors visits, medicines, tubes, diagnoses, etc. I could give you directions to anywhere in at least three of our local hospitals. My grandmother had lived with my mom, dad, and I for a little over a year before being moved into a nursing home. It wasn't what we had hoped for, but it was the best we could do at the time. I remember hearing that she was unresponsive one day and was moving to a hospital. She was extremely dehydrated and I wondered how that could happen while under the care of nursing professionals. *Cue my still present anger*
We knew something was going to happen. After seven days, she was transported back to the same nursing facility because there was nothing more the hospital could do for her. They were not prepared with more oxygen for her. Once the ambulance ran out, the paramedic left. I stood and watched her oxygen percentage levels drop, I saw every number. Then I watched her take her last breath. I dropped to the floor and clung to the hem of my mother's jeans. I don't remember if I cried, but I know she did. She thought I had passed out, but her calves knew differently. I remember the longest drive home in my dad's work truck and the song that was playing. I cried then.
Back then, I wouldn't have been able to tell you what Impending Doom felt like...but I could damn well tell you what it looks like.
It looks like every New Year's Eve countdown. It looks like the last peaceful exhale you take the moment right before you drift off to sleep. It looks like your eyes are scared but you don't know why. It looks like five caretakers scurrying out of a room like cowards, while a family watches their matriarch die. It looks like white walls, and nothing else. It looks like home. It looks like my mother's jeans.
Replies
Ash,
My heart goes out to you to have to experience that. That must of been so hard to see and remembering it. Death is so hard for me to deal with and accept. I have never been in the situation that you were in. That's devastating. I'm so sorry you had to go through that. Sorry for your loss. And the doom of it all. Everyone grieves differently. I hope everyday it gets easier for you. You take good care. Much love and support to you.
In writing out your perspective of this experience, I am able to see what you 'saw'.
As a person who has lived with people, visited with people, and worked with people who are on oxygen, I'm well aware of the process to be fitted with oxygen.
The oxygen option to continue breathing is only temporary. It can be a long temporary or a short temporary.
In seeing your grandmother's last breaths, you made sure she was not alone. That is a wonderful gift to share. Grieving your loss and knowing you made it easier for your grandmother at the same time will help you find peace of mind and in your heart.
Dehydration. It is important to ensure that all patients receiving supplemental oxygen therapy are well hydrated, as any post operative patient who is debilitated, infected or acutely ill is prone to dehydration, which can cause the mucous membranes to dry out.
Dehydration happens with oxygen patients.
Writing it out helps you to process all the parts of grieving. Cherish those special moments with your grandmother.
Sorry for your loss.
Ive been working through a book with CBT techniques my therapist gave me. It's been helping and giving me a constructive way to work out my anxiety. I decided to attack my impending doom feelings head on by thinking of the things that have happened in my life that may have lead to this feeling. This was the first one I thought of.
I shared this with my therapist. She now wonders if my diagnosis should be unresolved grief.
Im going to write some more (probably super sad) journals to share, and some not to share. Going to try to work through the hard stuff. Maybe this tension will release. I just want to feel present again.
Keep on writing it out. The more you write it out, the easier it will be to write about other things that are a part of the process.
Here's to your work!