I’m going mad. No. I’m having a panic attack.

I’m writing this from inside my car, waiting to speak to the GP about having a panic attack yesterday.

In all honesty I don’t really want to go in, I know I will cry and struggle to vocalise exactly what I’m feeling. If I can’t do that, then how can someone help me?

I have a constant knot in my throat.

Sprog is at home with my neighbour at the request of the GP. The first time I’ve left him properly and that makes me anxious.

Will her two beautifully behaved golden retrievers maul him? Will she know what to do when he cries? Will he need feeding and I’m not there to give him the boob?

Now I’m crying. With an even bigger lump in my throat.

When I’m ‘normal’ I can logically reason this shit out, but at the moment the simplest tasks are too hard. Tears appear out of nowhere and consume me. My breathing is shallow and I panic.

Why? Why do I panic?

Yesterday I had my first ever panic attack. It was truly horrific.

The only way I can describe it is that I thought I was going mad. Vision blurring, world-caving-in mad. I don’t know how, but I knew it was a panic attack and I shouted to my husband who was driving at the time, ‘I think I’m having a panic attack’.

It wasn’t completely out of the blue. We’d been arguing and I started spiralling things in my head. When we got in the car, I felt mentally trapped – like I couldn’t straighten my thoughts out. Nothing was logical. Everything started turning black.

The moment I said those words, and he started to call the GP I felt the smallest pangs of relief. A light, far away had been switched on.

Right, let’s go. Let’s see what my GP has to say. Wish me luck.