On tackling the stigma of mental illness, doing the work, and ‘winterizing’ for seasonal depression
I’m just going to come out and say it: You can’t put anxiety and panic into a nice little box. Too many “Mental Health Gurus” on YouTube try to tell you that a chemical imbalance doesn’t cause anxiety or that it’s all in your head. They are wrong, and I hear you, trust me.
***
“Sir, I-I think…I think I’m having…a heart…attack,” I said, breathless.
“Are you sure? Do I need to call 911?”
“M-maybe. I don’t…I don’t know.”
I had hit it hard the day and night before (Friday). Way too hard. I had gotten off work mid-afternoon and immediately started going to town. At a certain point, I was on autopilot, not stopping until I threw up sometime after midnight.
When it was time to go into my 5pm shift on Saturday, I was still incredibly hungover. I had gotten past the raging headache, but it was now into the “hanxiety” phase. My anxiety was through the roof and to make matters worse, I had one stop to make before I went into work. That landed me in the popular Denver neighborhood, Capitol “Cap” Hill.
“Okay, well just give me a second,” the gentleman said as he pulled out his phone.
“Ac-actually, I-I’m starting to feel better.”
I had been driving when a force that I’d never felt before completely overcame my body. My heart rate started to pick up and my hands started trembling. But it didn’t stop there. I started hyperventilating and my arms started to go numb. I was certain I was having a heart attack.
When I pulled over in the heavily congested neighborhood, I got out and my legs instantly turned to jello, going numb themselves. That’s when I discovered the gentleman walking my way with his dog.
“Are you sure? I can call them right now.”
“No. No. I’m fine. Thanks.”
As I looked in my rearview mirror, I could see him standing there, confused as to what had just happened.
When I got into work, I begged all of my coworkers to pull a double for me. They said no. All except the coworker I ran into at the bars that previous night. We had taken a shot together. He left immediately after because he knew he had to get up for his morning shift the next day. Now I was begging him with a $40 dollar bribe to cover mine. He wasn’t thrilled, but reluctantly gave in.
The hangover lasted three days. I was in the dog house with my managers for the chicken shit that I had just pulled and I felt horrible about it. I didn’t drink for two weeks after and picked up multiple shifts to try to right my wrongs.
It’s been seven years since that “beautiful” Saturday afternoon, yet the feeling remains.
As I continued to party and work in hospitality, I knew what I was getting myself into. “Hanxiety” became the norm and the territory I was okay with. Sure, I had some pretty gnarly anxiety and panic attacks after that one, but I reminded myself that it was all just part of the detoxing process.
This whole time I kept it from everyone. I didn’t want anyone to know that I was having panic attacks; it made me look weak. Or at least that’s what I thought. My friends could drink way more than me on any given night and I would still wake up the next day more hungover. I felt I had a problem and didn’t want to expose it.
And what I didn’t know was the neurological implications it could have in the long run. Your body will stop producing certain neurotransmitters, such as GABA and serotonin, leaving you always needing alcohol to stay at an even keel. Alcohol, among other drugs out there, binds to these receptors and when your body stops producing them naturally, well, your sympathetic nervous system is constantly activated in “fight or flight”.
So to those that say that anxiety can’t be caused by a chemical or hormonal imbalance, I think I can easily say I just debunked that. Myth busted. I would also want to make it a point that I still enjoy a glass of red, a snifter of scotch, and an ice cold beer, but it’s all in moderation.
***
But my story doesn’t end there.
When I was working out on a hemp farm in Colorado from 2018-2021, I was facing my fears of flying constantly. I’ve been on some deathly scary flights in my day and have gone into bouts of panic during each one. Sweaty palms, armpits, and thumping heart. But I always tackled the fear head first when I had to hop on another plane for a business trip. Exposure therapy, if you will.
In 2019 alone, I probably flew a total of sixty to seventy hours. The biggest of my adventures had me in Uruguay, Cancun, and in Puerto Rico twice. I saw the west coast in California twice and Miami, Nashville, Kansas City, and Vegas each once.
Each of these trips, I always had CBD and chamomile tea on hand. They were the best thing to calm the nerves before hopping on a plane for five hours. I vividly remember flying into Peru and after taking a tincture dropping of CBD oil, I basically melted into my seat. Calm. Like a warm blanket comforting you next to a crackling fireplace.
I was a pretty confident human during my times of high flying on the hemp farm. I got to do some pretty cool shit and made good money while selling CBD hemp seeds.
To be honest, the beginning of the pandemic didn’t affect me too much. I luckily had the job on the hemp farm and was out in nature much of the time; away from the confines of the city. My mental health was pretty intact.
However, at the end of that year, everything changed.
***
I’d spent five days in Keystone snowboarding the week before Christmas and had tweaked something in my neck (didn’t know it at the time). During a run, I felt incredibly lightheaded and on the verge of a panic attack. I originally attributed it to lack of oxygen, but that was not the case.
When I came back to KC for Christmas, I was already feeling anxious. Because of this, I figured it would be a good idea to go on a jog. KC was about ten degrees warmer than Colorado and sunny so there was no better time.
However, on the two times I ran on two consecutive days, I felt as if a nerve in my upper neck was getting pinched in between two bones; as if the “shock absorber” of the joints and disks weren’t doing their job.
The best way I can describe it is like when you hit your funny bone. When the ulnar nerve is hit, there’s a chain reaction that numbs your arm and makes it burn. Now use this same example for a nerve in your upper neck. However, this time it triggers a panic attack.
Because of the close proximity to the brain stem, our brain’s “prime real estate”, the upper cervical spine and its nerves sent these messages of danger directly to my amygdala. Repeatedly pinching these nerves sent these negative messages, putting me into constant “fight or flight” panic attacks.
When I returned back to Colorado, I was doing a lot of manual labor with hemp. I was in great shape, easily able to work an eight hour shift. But now after an hour I would have to stop; my anxiety was too strong. With each step, I felt the pinching of the nerve and a “shutting off” feeling; like I was going to pass out at any second.
The continuous cycle of panic attacks, trauma, and negative thoughts in regards to my negative state, had me in bed at all hours of the day, crying at my overwhelming handicap. Crying that I would fall asleep to escape the pain.
I went to my primary care doctor and she prescribed my Zoloft. I went to a cardiologist; she couldn’t pinpoint a problem. I went to a neurologist; he said it could be dehydration. I drank plenty of fluids all day everyday. I went to my first counselor; he triggered panic attacks by talking about his heart problems.
And if you couldn’t tell, none of this was due to alcohol. These new panic attacks were far worse than the one on that sunny day in Cap Hill. These were like I was having a heart attack, a stroke, and a seizure all at the same time.
Then the vertigo came.
I had to quit my job. I had to move back to KC. I was having vertigo everyday and everynight. Imagine the feeling you get when lying down drunk: room spinning, on the verge of throwing up, all you want to do is fall asleep. That was me every night. Hell, that’s still me every night.
I’ve spent two and a half years, thousands of dollars, and one terrible ER trip trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. I had to start doing research myself and finally came to the conclusion: cervical vertigo.
Although this journey has completely derailed my life, there’s one thing that I’ll never accept: That I won’t heal. I won’t accept it and neither should you. You can heal and you will.
Now I want to help you. By the time this gets published, we’ll be full into the thick of the “winter blues”. Here are some quick tips so that you can get your life back:
Sunlight! Yes, I know it’s winter. But you need plenty of sunlight for vitamin D and serotonin production. If you absolutely can’t get any sun (ie: working night shifts), supplement with vitamin D.
Calming tea. Chamomile is my favorite, but spearmint, peppermint, valerian root, lemon balm, and kava are great as well. If you can handle caffeine, green tea is also beneficial as it has L-theanine.
CBD. When I first took CBD, I fell asleep hours before my normal bedtime. After I got used to it, it was perfect for mellowing out my nervous system.
Meditation. Seriously, unplug from your phone. We weren’t made to look at screens for fifteen hours a day (and I’m guilty of it!). We need to process our thoughts outside of sleeping. Start off with five or ten minutes a day to just let your mind wander. If a negative thought comes up, just let it be. Try your best to not react to it. Overtime, you won’t.
I do hope that this article helps you get through these tough winter months. Stay strong and carry on.