I thought I was done with panic attacks. It’s not that I was free of anxiety or depression, but for a long time now I’ve felt like I could handle the difficult things that came up without shattering into a million pieces or becoming paralyzed, but something changed in the past few weeks. I’m pretty sure it started when I tried a new Rheumatological medication (Methotrexate), which was meant to lessen my overall body pain and allow me to exercise more, but instead made me even more exhausted and exacerbated my pre-existing depression and anxiety.
At first, I had no idea where the extra depression was coming from: was it from thinking about adopting a new dog? From watching the news? The exhaustion of doctor visits? Discovering that weight loss medication would remain out of reach? I don’t remember now what finally made me believe that it was the Methotrexate that was sending me into the deep dark, but after weeks of worsening depression I decided to stop taking it and see if things improved, and, gradually, I started to feel better and able to think and write and plan and hope again.
When I called the Rheumatologist to tell her what was going on, she said to wait a few weeks before trying the next medication, which shouldn’t have any of those side effects, and since I wanted to believe her and finally see some improvement in the overall body pain that has seriously restricted my life, I agreed.
But since I’d been taking the Methotrexate weekly, instead of daily, the timeline for it to leave my system was very slow, and in the meantime, I had my first panic attack: a small one, at Whole Foods. I used to have food panic all the time, because of the thousands of different diets I’ve been on, and because of old conflicts around keeping kosher, but after years of working on Intuitive Eating a lot of that noise had calmed down. Except, at Whole Foods (a ridiculously high priced store that rarely has the things I need, but always has fun stuff I want), I got all mishkebobbled by the prices and the choices and I had no idea what to buy. Eventually, I chose a few small things and got out of there as quickly as possible. It was only a small echo of my old panic attacks though, and I was mostly okay.
The second panic attack, also small, also happened around food, this time at the enormous supermarket near my house. I blamed it on Passover, because there was a large section of Passover foods that made me feel like I should buy jars of borscht and boxes of cake mix and cans of chocolate chip macaroons that I would never eat. But, again, the panic passed quickly, and when the effects of the Methotrexate finally wore off I thought I was stable enough to try the second rheumatological medication.
And then the car battery died. This had happened once before, because one of the lights above the driver’s seat goes on accidentally at times and if I don’t notice it right away, and don’t drive the car for a few days, by the time I get back to the car the battery is dead.
This time it happened when I needed to take Mom for a medical procedure, an endoscopic ultrasound of her heart (called a TEE), but the car wouldn’t start and there was no one around to help, and instead of being able to problem solve, or even think, I panicked. Mom told me that she would call a cab, and then call AAA or the maintenance men at our co-op to help me charge the battery, and the idea that I would have to interact with strangers scared me so much that I left my mother and my pocketbook in the car and race-walked back to the apartment to curl up on my bed and hide.
Mom called me from the parking lot a few minutes later to say that the cab was on its way, and that the maintenance men would be able to help with the car in about half an hour, but in the meantime I should come back outside and get my pocketbook, because it wouldn’t be safe to leave it in the car. She didn’t seem to be upset with me, or to understand that I was curled up on my bed in an altered state, but I couldn’t think for myself so I did as I was told and went out to the car for my pocketbook. I was able to give Mom a hug just as the cab arrived, and then I walked back up to the apartment, resumed my curled up position, and cowered in my room.
There was a knock at the door a while later and I jumped out of bed and put on my jacket and answered the door on automatic pilot; some part of me was able to function enough to make chit chat and ignore the bad jokes about my lack of car knowledge. When the guys said I should drive the car around for ten or fifteen minutes before turning it off (and then on again), I did as I was told, even though my pocketbook, with my driver’s license, was still upstairs.
To fill the time, I decided to do a practice drive to the hospital where Mom was having her test done, to make sure I’d know where to pick her up later, and I got stuck in traffic for forty minutes, worrying the whole time that the car would stop suddenly or that I’d get into an accident and have no identification on me. But I made it home safely and turned off the car and waited a few minutes, as I’d been told, and then turned the car back on, successfully (which meant I wouldn’t have to call the maintenance guys again, which was good because I didn’t have their phone numbers). While I was still in the car, taking my first deep breath in more than an hour, Mom called from the hospital to ask if the car was working, because they’d been delaying her procedure until she could assure them that I would be able to pick her up when it was over, and I spoke to the nurse on the phone and reassured her that I would be there on time.
I survived the rest of the afternoon on automatic pilot and picked Mom up from the hospital and got her home safely. I felt awful for having had a panic attack when she needed me, and really scared that this would be my new normal, but most of all I was exhausted and needed sleep. When I woke up from my nap a few hours later I started to wonder if there might be a connection between starting the second rheumatological medication the night before and this latest, much more significant, panic attack. But my brain was telling me that I was always this useless, and I couldn’t come up with a convincing argument to fight back.
Two days later, Mom and I went to a dog rescue event, because my therapist had suggested (insisted) that I go, and because the depression was getting so dark again that I didn’t have the energy to think for myself. We got the address of the rescue event wrong, twice, but finally found it by following the crowd of cars. Once we’d parked and walked over to the row of tents and tables advertising all of the different rescue organizations, I was overwhelmed by all of the noise and people and dogs, and I couldn’t make sense of what I was supposed to do or where I was supposed to go.
We eventually found an enclosure filled with many small and hypoallergenic dogs, along with some full-sized Poodles and Golden Retrievers and a horse-sized Siberian Husky. But none of the volunteers seemed to know how their adoption process worked, or which dogs were still available for adoption, and no one knew about age and weight and health status, except that all of the dogs were probably around three years old and had been rescued from dog meat festivals in Asia (that’s hard to type, let alone to say out loud).
There was a little black poodle mix who was already on one of the rescue’s leashes outside of the enclosure, but when I asked about him a very possessive older woman glared at me and said she was considering adopting him, which seemed to mean he was off limits. Then we saw a little butter-colored dog who looked like the perfect size for us, but another woman had picked him up and held him tight while she looked for a volunteer to help her with the adoption; when she finally found the volunteer-in-the-know it turned out that that dog was already spoken for by someone else. I was getting more and more overwhelmed by the confusion and heat of the day and part of me wanted to leave (or escape), but part of me felt like it was my job to stay there and tough it out.
Finally, one of the volunteers asked me if I’d like to meet one of the dogs and I looked around and saw a little white dog who looked very much like Butterfly, and I chose her. I held her for a while and she was very calm, to the point where she didn’t even make eye contact or react to much of anything. When I put her down on the ground though, she freaked out at a noise I couldn’t hear and almost strangled herself trying to get out of her leash. The volunteer put her back into the enclosure with the other dogs and she sat down against the fencing, near where I was standing, and seemed to calm down again. She wasn’t the dog I was looking for, especially because she looked so much like Butterfly and was triggering all of the old grief and responsibility, rather than the love, but I couldn’t untangle my feelings or get myself to leave her behind in the chaos either. Mom finally found someone who could explain the adoption process, including the $2,000 adoption fee, which is basically what it would cost to buy a puppy from a breeder, and by then the Butterfly look-alike was sitting patiently on a little girl’s lap, so we took a brochure and finally walked away.
The whole time we’d been near the enclosure I’d been beyond thinking, unable to figure out what I wanted to do or what I thought I should do, except that I knew I should adopt all of the dogs, including the big dogs, because what kind of monster leaves a dog behind just because of money or because the world is tilting, or for any other clearly not-good-enough reason. As we got further away from the dogs I started to be able to hear my own thoughts a little more clearly, but I still felt sick and dizzy and angry and confused. I was able to drive home safely, but hopelessness and the long list of things that were wrong with me was rushing through my mind and refused to shut up.
Hours later, on Mom’s prompting, I looked up the side effects for the second rheumatological medication, and depression and anxiety were at the top of the list, despite the doctor’s assurances that this medication would not be a problem, so I emptied the rest of the pills from my pre-filled weekly pill box and crossed my fingers.
It took a couple of days for the worst of the hopelessness to wane, but in a way the damage had already been done. I’d forgotten how bad things could get, and now it was right in the front of my mind. It didn’t help that the day after the rescue event Mom got the results of her TEE and told me that she would probably need surgery to repair or replace her mitral valve (her fourth surgery in three years).
I’m frustrated that these medication trials, which were supposed to help me function better, sent me so close to the brink; and I’m frustrated that this is how it’s been with so many medications over the years; and I’m angry that the one medication that was helping (Ozempic) was taken away; and I’m angry that the doctors still have no name for what’s wrong with my health, let alone any solutions.
But at least I can think again.
I called the Rheumatologist to tell her that I wouldn’t be trying the third medication on her list, at least not right now, because I needed to be in the best frame of mind possible to help Mom through her surgery, and the expected three months of recovery.
Only time will tell if the panic attacks were solely caused by the rheumatological medications, or if, with enough stress, they will return. I’m trying to be hopeful that I’ll be able to handle everything that comes my way this summer, but part of me is worried, remembering how bad it can get. Another part of me, though, is remembering Cricket’s insistent strength, and Ellie’s insistent belief in me and my strength, and holding those memories as close as possible, to inspire me and help me through.
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Yeshiva Girl is about a Jewish teenager on Long Island, named Isabel, though her father calls her Jezebel. Her father has been accused of inappropriate sexual behavior with one of his students, which he denies, but Izzy implicitly believes it’s true. As a result of his problems, her father sends her to a co-ed Orthodox yeshiva for tenth grade, out of the blue, and Izzy and her mother can’t figure out how to prevent it. At Yeshiva, though, Izzy finds that religious people are much more complicated than she had expected. Some, like her father, may use religion as a place to hide, but others search for and find comfort, and community, and even enlightenment. The question is, what will Izzy find?
rachelmankowitz 
So sorry to hear you’re going through this. I hope things are better soon!
Thank you!
And I thought I had problems. My heart goes out to you.
Hang in there my friend
I can sympathise with panic attacks, though I’m glad to say I haven’t had a full one for many years now.
$2000 to adopt a dog is an awful lot of money. Maya is full pedigree and we got her from a registered breeder. It was money well spent and she is a godsend at the moment. I hope you find another dog to suit you Rachel. They provide their own therapy.
As a fellow panic/anxiety attack sufferer and overthinker, please know that you are in my thoughts.
Panic attacks are no fun (duh). But “mishkebobbled” is a good word. 😊
I am sorry about your anxieties. Medicines can really effect your mental state and they effect different people differently.
Oh my gosh, Rachel, you got hit with everything at once! You are strong, and you got through it. I used to have quick panic attacks when my heart would race, but they didn’t last long and I don’t have them anymore. The dog event sounded a little stressful for both dogs and people. Interesting how the woman claimed her chosen dog, only to discover someone else beat her to it. That is a little sad. I hope you find the right one, I believe you will. I wish you and your mother peace, and look forward to your next post.
Get Outlook for Androidhttps://aka.ms/AAb9ysg ________________________________
Thank you so much!
I’ve had 2 (maybe 3) panic attacks during my life, and still can’t imagine what you have been going through. And that dog adoption event sounded like a total disaster, and maybe even a way of profiting off of dogs that were stolen. IDK, but it sure does sound fishy.
Hoping that your Mom does well with the surgery and you do well without the meds.
Thank you! That dog rescue really did seem too good to be true, I didn’t think of it like that. But those poor doggies.
I’m so sorry to learn of all the suffering you have experienced. It sounds daunting, but I hope the coming days bring you moments of serenity.
Thank you so much!
I’m very sorry about all your recent problems, and do hope things will improve soon.
Jennifer Website and blog: https://www.jenniferbarraclough.com
Thank you!
Rachel, I’m so sorry you’re having to go through all this. My heart goes out to you.
Thank you!
Sorry to hear about this Rachel. I hope everything would be okay soon.🥰
Thank you!
I am grateful you stood up to the doctor. I pray for strength and peace.
Thank you!
I can’t like this, because this post makes my heart hurt for you. Anxiety is a sneaky beast that pops up randomly and takes over your world. Finding a way to cope and overcome is a lifelong journey. ((HUGS))
Sometimes I wonder if the meds make things worse. I think having a person by your side who can give you a hug when you need it could be just as good or better than the meds. The hugs can’t hurt anyway.
Sorry you’re going through this. It certainly sounds like the panic attacks were triggered by the new meds and will pass. I hope you find a new dog soon and your mom’s surgery goes well.
I’m so sorry you’re dealing with this
How frustrating to be ganged up on by the medications that are supposed to help. The Rheumatologist should have paid more attention to the likely side effects.
I”m just gobsmacked at the thought of $2000 for a rescue dog! Reputable breeders of purebred dogs with health testing and generations of records charge that much, but for a rescue? No, that’s robbery. I’m sorry you’re having panic attacks – I lost all faith in most doctors duing Covid so I hope you can find something that helps without making things worse
Sorry to hear that you’re having so many difficulties and trouble staying calm. Hoping you feel better.
I so remember that fragmenting into a million pieces feeling – ten years of panic attacks remains a vivid memory (when triggered). Also, medications that have death, strokes, depression & anxiety as possible side effects. Are they mad issuing such things? One may think so!
I’m so pleased that life is somewhat better just now. Perhaps a little dog 🐶 is the salve. They do have magic to share.
Get well soon
Be strong, you know a lot of people are thinking of you.
thinking of you and your mom. I’m sorry the panic attacks returned. And hope the medicine was the culprit and you feel confident that they are gone. 2000 for a rescue is unbelievable!!! Aren’t you doing the mitzvah as a new family? How can they charge 2k? I hope you find your soul dog soon and that the cost is reasonable! wish your mom a happy Mother’s Day and prayers for her recovery ❤️
I’m so sorry that this is all cropping up on you! Sounds awful! Just remember that your WordPress family is here and we love you and are praying for you! Take care!
Thank you so much!
What a catalogue of events! The dog adoption show sounds like a fiasco, and $2,000 to adopt an older dog is outlandishly expensive.
Best wishes, Pete.
Thank you!
mishkebobbled is the best word I have heard in a long time. I give you a lot of credit for being able to get so much done on autopilot. That dog rescue event sounds terrible. It seems to me you would do better in a setting of smaller scale. I feel terrible for you having all these harmful side effects from stuff that is supposed to make you feel better. I hope you find some relief eventually.
Thank you! Mishkebobbled is a familiar state for me, so the word gets a lot of use.
I think there are degrees of anxiety and obsessive disorder.
Listening to music and walking calm me down.
Cooking and eating, too!
Absolutely!
I suffer from panic attacks which occur out of the blue. I find Kalms containing valerian help. I had a dental appointment earlier this week and was frozen to the spot with fear.
Hope your mum gets well soon.
Also hope you find a lovely dog. $2,000 sounds far too much for a rescue dog.
Thank you! I’m so glad you found something that works!
So sorry to hear what you are going through. I have rheumatoid arthritis and personally have resisted taking Methotrexate. Something disturbing about taking an old chemotherapy drug. I also resented an older male rheumatologist telling me years ago about the hair falling out side effect, “Oh you women are so vain about your hair.” Come on, dude. Currently I’m on a biologic called Infliximab and it’s been so helpful. Wishing you and your mom the best.
Hair falling out?!!! No one told me about that! I’ve had bad reactions to the biologics I’ve tried so far, but eventually that may be the answer for me too.
Yes, crazy, right? It takes a while to find the right treatment.
Panic attacks are horrible, I’m so sorry! Doctors are too quick to dole out meds without considering the side effects. I hope you feel better soon, and have more luck finding a dog to adopt.
Thank you!
Hugs.
Be strong, you know a lot of people are thinking of you. https://420finder.net/market/
Thank you!
I’m so happy you realized that the medications were causing your troubles. I have had similar side effects from pills that are supposedly well tolerated. The more time that passes after the latest anxiety event, the more you will be able to pave over those memories and move forward. It does get easier.❤️
Best wishes on meeting your newest furry family member. I know there is someone out there just waiting for you (for less than $2000. Yikes!) 😳
Thank you!
I’ve had multiple sensitivities to medication over the years — even to medication others have tolerated well. This is not “all in your head”. Methotrexate is known to cause anxiety, depression, and suicidal ideation in some patients. See, https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0010440X1300120X and https://romj.org/2023-0305.
Wow!
How brave of you to write so openly about your panic attacks! I hurt for you as I read and hope the writing itself–and the vast community of people here who care about you–has been somewhat helpful.
Are you familiar with the work of Judson Brewer, MD? He’s an addiction specialist who uses mindfulness to help people remap their brains (seriously, this is all scientifically based) to accept the anxiety, learn how to ride it out, and eventually react to it less. He wrote a book called Unwinding Anxiety and developed a phone app: unwindinganxiety.com.
Best wishes to you, your mom, and your soon-to-be-found new fur baby.
That adoption event sounds soo stressful! There must be a better way of meeting a rescue dog and finding a pupper who is a good fit for your family. Also $2000 seems… exploitative? I don’t actually know that much about dog adoption since I am a cat person, but a fee that high just seems wrong. I hope you find a dog who love you as much as you will clearly love it!!
Thank you!
Oh my goodness! Please tell me that the festivals thing isn’t true?? I can’t believe that is something that still goes on in 2024. As for the $2,000, that seems excessive and when the time is right you will find that lonely soul that’s out there waiting for you. I’m hoping that you find the panic attacks are just a matter of changing meds and all will soon be well. Best to your mom!
Thank you!
You have my fullest sympathy. Panic attacks creep up on you then go shout “BOO!” very loudly and leave feeling like a big mess on the floor. Or they do with me. It’s quite disconcerting.
Very disconcerting, but a relief when they end.
Ah, those adorable dogs again! I just want to say that I understand how you feel about adopting another dog. We got a new puppy 3 weeks ago, and I have to say he is really helping me through the grieving process of our other dog. Not that I’m not still grieving (how’s that for a double negative!), but I think I was starting to get stuck in my grief, and I do feel as though I’m honoring our first dog with our new dog, never, ever forgetting the first. Best wishes for whatever you choose to do. And best wishes to your mother—sounds like she’s in great medical hands. 😊
Thank you! A puppy sounds wonderful right about now.
Panic attacks are no joke. I’m sorry you’re dealing with this. I hope this week is better for you.
Thank you!
I’m sorry. 🤗
Thank you!
Praying for an abiding peace, Rachel, one that transcends all circumstances.
Thank you so much!
Panic attacks are horrible. I’m sorry you have to deal with them.
Thank you!
I understood every point in this post, I felt your panic, confusion, and depression — and I remembered when I discovered in my 30’s that I have altitude sickness if I’m on top of a mountain too long (it results in a panic attack). Every second felt like a nightmare. Give yourself a big pat on the back for discovering that the new medication was giving you panic attacks — that is a huge achievement!
Thank you so much!
So sorry you are going through this. My mom had panic attacks and once or twice I’ve almost had one – the thought of having a full blown, all out panic attack terrifies me! I think the dog rescue situation would be hard on anyone, let along someone in your condition – those things are just so depressing and so emotionally draining. You’re forced to confront evil while being surrounded by sweet, hurt little souls. When the time is right, the perfect next dog for you will appear.
Thank you!
Thank you, Rachel, and God bless you and hold you close. Your blogs are so open and honest that I know they bless a huge number of people. Just remember, God is for us. With God for us – no one and nothing can be against us…and win!
Thank you!
Thanks for sharing this idea.Anita
Thank you!
I’m sorry to hear you’ve had to go through so much struggle. I hope you will have a better experience in the coming weeks.
$2,000 adoption fee is kind of insane. Our (3 yo) rescue dog was $450, and our (1 yo) FIV cat was $150. The dog rescue did an excellent job of matching us:
https://www.fortheloveofdogsrescue.org/
That’s awesome!