Andrea Paterson,
Madison Heights,
Michigan
Today,
Andrea
Paterson is a
happy bride-to-be
with a job she
loves. But not
long ago, she was too afraid to even
leave the house... |
"Now
I embrace
|
plane.
Then one day, I
ran out of excuses.
My sister
asked me to
meet her for lunch.
But this time, I just
couldn't tell another
lie.
"It scares
me to go out alone," I stammered.
Diane said,
"You can't
go on like this."
I felt something
shift
inside me. After
five
years of living in
fear,
I couldn't take anoth-
er day. A hospital's
referral center gave
me the name of a psy-
chiatrist. Before
I
went, I told Steve
about the attacks.
"I
wouldn't blame you
if you didn't want to be
with me," I said.
"I love
you," he replied,
"and I'll stick by
you."
I was filled with
relief. |
pened—my
heart slowed.
"I can't
believe it!" I cried.
She explained
that by
using imagery, I could
bring serenity into my life.
My first
hurdle was to
walk to the end of
the mall alone. I got halfway when
the familiar feelings
started.
I can't do this! I
gasped. But
I forced myself to
think of peaceful things and, to my amazement, it was easier to breathe.
I did it! I cried
when I reached the
end.
As months passed,
it be-
came easier to do
things
alone. One day, six
months
after I started therapy,
I
came home from an
after-
noon at the mall,
and Steve teased, "You're never home anymore! I'm proud of you."
I was, too.
I still had at-
tacks, but they grew
less
severe until one day,
I was |
|
each morning with a smile"
 y
friends and I were at my
favorite res-
taurant celebrating my new job
with a public relations firm. It was
my first big break after college,
and I was excit-
ed about the future.
But as we joked, my heart suddenly
began
to race and my throat tightened.
I can't breathe! I thought. I've
got to get out of here!
I rushed
to the bathroom,
where I cowered in
a stall, gasping for breath. What's wrong with me? I wondered.
This
wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. But before
it had |
that I
was shy and had trou-
ble making friends.
As the
years passed, I
grew more confident.
In
high school, I made
friends
and I dated.
After graduat-
ing from college,
like every-
one else just starting
out, I
felt a little unsure
of myself.
Still, I had no reason
to believe that life wouldn’t
hold good things for
me.
But that
episode in the restaurant was only the beginning. Soon, I was hav-
ing attacks once or
twice a
week. I'd be
running er-
rands when suddenly,
my
heart would start
racing
and I'd have to leave
the
cleaners or supermarket.
One day, I pulled
into a gas station when the familiar sensation started. Am I hav-
ing a heart attack?
I gasped. |
 As
I shopped, I felt
my heartbeat quicken.
My chest felt tight |
If
I can just get home, everything will be all right, I thought. And it was.
Worried that peo- ple would think I |
been while I was job-hunt-
ing, and who doesn't
get the jitters before an interview?
Yet I had no reason
to feel anxious now. After several minutes, the terror eased.
But what if it happens
again? I worried,
shaken.
Growing
up, I'd always
been a worrier.
The
youngest of three
girls, I got good grades, but like a lot of kids, I'd get nervous before
a test.
And I
was so afraid the other kids wouldn’t like me |
was crazy, I kept
the attacks a secret. But the only place I
felt safe was home.
As a year passed, then two, my world
grew smaller.
I forced
myself to go to
work, but all the
spontane-
ity went out of my
life. "Let's
go out," friends would
say.
But unless they offered
to pick me up, I made excuses.
Lying only made me
feel
worse about myself.
Then,
one day, too para-
lyzed with fear to
go to the library, I blurted to my par- |
|
ents, "I
feel afraid when I'm out and I don't know why!" At their urging,
I went to a psychologist. Talking about my fears helped lessen the
severity of the attacks, but I still felt afraid.
In 1996,
I met my |
The psychiatrist
diagnosed me with panic disorder and agoraphobia, a fear of public places.
"I'm
not crazy?" I asked. "No," he said, explaining
that panic disorder
can be triggered by a chemical |
in a store
and I realized, I'm not afraid!
It's
been a year, and I'm
still taking medication,
but I feel like I'm alive again. Recently, Steve and I took a trip.
As we got on the plane, he asked, "Are you okay?" |
boyfriend
Steve. Afraid of
what he'd think, I
didn’t tell
him why I didn’t like
to go
out by myself; "I
just don't
ike being alone,"
I said. My
attacks were mild,
so I could |
imbalance.
He pre-
scribed an anti- depressant
to lessen my fear, and sent
me to a behavioral
therapist. When the |
One day, I was in a
store and realized,
I'm not afraid!
|
hide
them when we were together.
Two years
later, Steve and
I were talking about
mar-
riage. But when
I thought about the wedding, I shud-
dered. What if I had
an
attack during the
ceremo-
ny? Filled with
disgust, I thought, get hold of your-
self! But when
I tried, it was
a disaster.
I forced myself to go to a store alone. As I shopped, I felt my heartbeat
quicken. Suddenly, my chest felt so tight that I panicked, I'm dying!
The attacks
were back, worst than before. At work,
if someone startled
me, I'd almost faint.
I filled
with shame when I couldn't attend my grand-
mother's funeral.
I was sick
of making excuses.
When
Steve wasn't with
me, I’d sit home and
cry to
my cat, Chestnut,
"This isn't
a life!"
Steve
wanted to plan vaca-
tions, but I told
him I didn't like to travel. The truth was,
I was afraid to get
on a |
therapist
told me that I had to place myself in scary situations so I could learn
to control my fear, my heart raced. "I can't breathe!" I gasped.
"Can
you picture yourself someplace safe?" she asked
Fighting
back panic, I closed my eyes. "I'm in my bed with my cat," I said.
Then
she asked me to describe what the sheets looked like, what Chestnut was
doing. As I talked, a remarkable thing hap- |
"I'm great!" I beamed.
And there
are more good things in store. I'm getting married next year!
There
was a time when I
couldn't walk into a church full of people, but the other day I told Steve,
"Let's invite everyone we know!"
I used
to dread each day, but now I embrace each morning with a smile, and I fill
every day with happ-
iness!
-- Andrea Paterson
with Taryn Phillips-Quinn |
Is it a panic
attack...or a
heart attack?
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