A few months ago I was diagnosed with
hypertension. Following my doctor’s
orders, I dieted and exercised. Everything
was fine and dandy, life went on.
That is, until just a few weeks ago. For
no reason other than my lack of
discipline, I started eating food that my
doctor wouldn’t want me eating. This
binge went on for days.
After yet another night of eating bbq
chicken I checked my BP. It was 150/100.
At around lunchtime the following day I
rode a public vehicle. In that vehicle my
hands suddenly started shaking. I went to
the doctor, who told me that the
“tremors” had nothing to do with my
hypertension. He told me that maybe I just
hungry (true: my breakfast was half a bowl
of oatmeal), or maybe it was just hot (it
was). Nonetheless, I told him my previous
night’s BP, and he gave me some 2.5 mg
felodipine, which I was to take everyday.
Having settled that, I went home. The
following day (after finding out the side
effects of felodipine) I was supposed to
drive 9 miles from home to buy some stuff.
After only about a mile I felt very very
uncomfortable. In fact, I felt like I was
dying. I immediately turned back and went
home and checked my BP (which turned out
to be 125/79). Thus I went to the internet
for answers.
After a few clicks I discovered that I
just had an anxiety attack. From what I
can tell, the fact that my BP the night
before was high, my mind was telling me
that something was wrong, despite the
facts to the contrary.
This discovery ALMOST made me laugh, since
I used to be a real daredevil (you know,
first to jump off high cliffs to dive into
water and stuff). And I was also a supreme
positive thinker and was so confident that
it borders on smug superiority. I say
almost, since the attack imprinted itself
on my mind so deeply that I believed that,
at that crucial moment in the car, I was
about to die.
Now I know that my brain was betraying me.
My positive thinking mind suddenly had no
answers. Nothing is really wrong with me
physiologically. Hypertension doesn’t
cause feelings of imminent death. Why
then, that bad feeling? Why was I afraid
to travel? For a few days I was afraid to
travel.
I immediately returned to the whole diet
and exercise regimen. Fruits and veggies
became my buddies (meat only making rare
guest appearances), my jumping rope and my
bike became my companions. With these and
the felodipine, I was slowly moving from
“overweight” to “normal”.
Slowly but surely I was also driving
farther and farther from home. We are
smack in the middle two major cities, both
of which are about 10 miles from home. I
drive regularly to either city, and the
anxiety I felt on that fateful day
manifests itself only mildly. Maybe I have
already conquered my anxiety.
Or did I? I have a few qualms. What if I
take a long, 4 to 5 hour bus ride? Can I
cope? What can I do to avoid an anxiety
attack? My fear is that, since I am not in
control of the bus, and the bus is, in
essence, an enclosed space, I can do
nothing should another one of those
attacks occur. Just the thought of riding
that bus, doing nothing for hours, and I
suddenly have a hundred excuses not to do
it.
This is my ultimate goal: to be able to
take that 4 to 5 hour bus ride to the big
city, perhaps sleep at my cousin’s
place, then go back home with nothing
extraordinary happening. What can I do to
achieve this goal?
Thank you very much for your time.
P.S. I’m a 27-year old, still slightly
overweight (though trying to lose that
flab)5 foot 4 male taking 2.5 mg
felodipine daily. I used to go out all the
time, but the past four years I’ve been
taking care of my father, which means I
rarely go out. Perhaps this has something
to do with my anxiety attacks?
