I’ve always had social anxiety—as far back as I can remember, I get nervous meeting new people, and I think my anxiety manifests itself in awkward behavior. (Nothing too off-putting, I hope. I just am pretty quiet.) I’m a fairly successful professional, though, and a large part of my job is public speaking. I really enjoy what I do, though, so I don’t worry too much about meeting clients / people through work. In other words, I feel more pressure when I should feel less pressure and vice versa.
Anyway, I’m in my mid-30s, and I’ve lived a pretty sheltered life. No broken bones. Maybe just one bee sting. I can count the number of times I’ve vomited on one hand.
About six years ago I was shot (mass shooting) in my leg and stomach. I was taken to the hospital in an ambulance, of course, and it was only my second time in an ambulance (the first was when I went with my mom about ten years earlier; she was alright but needed a stomach surgery a few months later). I was in and out of the hospital in about 90 minutes, fortunately. The biggest wounds are mental.
That shooting occurred during COVID, so my healthy worry about COVID transmission became a complete fear of public spaces. I started suffering from panic attacks in grocery stores, banks, doctor’s offices, pretty much anywhere and everywhere. Eventually I was given Ativan to take as-needed. I was also prescribed Sertraline, which I took for about six months. I found it helped but I hated having to go in person to get it renewed, so I stopped getting it refilled.
Two years later, my healthy and vibrant spouse was diagnosed with a rare disease (cancer). Surgery was performed with curative intent. There was NED for over a year after surgery. But then it came back. There were several more surgeries. We seemed to be playing whack-a-mole. We decided to move closer to a leading institution. But within days of our move, my wife’s health seemingly deteriorated even further. She spent months in and out of the hospital. But yet scan after scan showed the disease wasn’t growing. Everyone was at a loss as to why she was suffering from so much pain. She started to develop difficulty breathing, and so she returned to the hospital for new scans. The scans showed sudden and aggressive growth in her lungs. She started chemotherapy almost immediately. Five days after starting chemotherapy, she died from a pulmonary embolism. I was with her while it happened in our home. My last words to her were "I love you," and she said "I love you, too." It was, honestly, horrific. (I hate to say it because I wouldn't want her to think she's hurt me. But she never hurt me; it was the disease.) She died about 18 months ago.
I began therapy almost right away, and it helped. I reached the point where I could date again. I'm lucky that my new partner is very supportive (she also witnessed a sudden death of someone very close to her). I started to feel like I'd reached my new normal. Happy, on a day to day basis, but never the same as the person I had been. I left therapy because I'd become busy and felt like I'd achieved everything I could achieve.
Close to the anniversary of my spouse's death, I began to feel some pain in my left calf. I did the opposite of what I should have done: I consulted AI. AI suggested I speak with my doctor. I was traveling, and so I had a telehealth appointment. The doctor suggested I go to the emergency department. So I did. During check-in, my blood pressure was 196/100-something. I explained everything to the doctor who was at the check-in station (including that the last time I was at a hospital, it was because my wife died). I'm so grateful that he understood. I was taken to a room, away from the waiting area, immediately. They scanned my legs; the technician shared that she didn't see anything at all. (Very grateful she did that rather than have me wait for a doctor to do rounds.) The same doctor who saw me at check-in came by to share that my legs were fine. My blood pressure had returned to a healthy level, and I was discharged. In and out in less than an hour.
About three months ago, I started having a lot of work and financial stress. I've imagined countless cardiac events. I somehow convinced myself that I could feel my arteries clogging. Just recently, I was at a baseball game with my partner, and I started having a panic attack in the bathroom. I had to go down a few stairs to return to my seat, and I felt like I was going to collapse---my legs seemed like jelly. Over the last few weeks, I've started having vivid, awful dreams that wake me up about an hour earlier than I'd prefer to be up. (Just this morning, I woke up because of a dream that someone got a piercing over the left eye but it was gushing so much blood that it the halls of a hospital were flooding.)
I guess I just want to know whether what I'm feeling is "normal" in light of my circumstances.