self.watch

Hello again. I thought I'd write a little about the onset of my symptoms and how I navigated the day this all began. I'll dive into potential causes and treatments in future posts; this will read more as a narrative.

On May 13th, 2021, I had a very ordinary day. At the time I was living alone in my apartment and still getting warmed up to living in the city I'd moved to for work. The pandemic had made it difficult to explore and make friends, but I had developed a solid schedule and did my best to fend off loneliness by keeping up with my hobbies and engaging with coworkers.

Work was stressful, but exciting. I was new to my team and still learning a great deal every day. There wasn't much of a 'ramp-up' period; in the ~6 months leading up to the day I had already taken on what I'd consider significant responsibility. I was on a 'flex' schedule, working some days in the office and some days from home. There were pros and cons to each; I enjoyed spending face-to-face time with my colleagues, but I've always found it comforting to work from the quiet of my own space. This Thursday was one of my more productive days in the office. I was finally getting through the bulk of some difficult projects, and with it, getting a better picture of where I would fit on on my team. I must emphasize; I love my job.

Getting back to my place, I video chatted with my family and girlfriend (living in a different city at the time), had a solid workout, ordered Chipotle and started watched a few episodes of Suits, which I had just started. I've always had something of an obscure obsession with oldies jazz vocalists, and I went down a little rabbit hole looking to see if I could get in contact with one of my favorite crooners from the 50's who still happened to be active. To no avail, I got ready for bed and studied a bit from a textbook I was making my way through to learn more for my job. I passed out before I had a chance to close it.

Woke up needing to take a leak. As soon as I got out of bed I felt this massive head rush. Almost like water was rushing directly through my brain. A bit disoriented and dizzy, I went to the bathroom and went back to sleep, figuring it was nothing. I'm still not sure if this had anything to do with my symptom onset, but I wouldn't be surprised.

Another day another dollar! I was working from home on Fridays so no need to be up too early. Checked the news, texted my girlfriend, got dressed and freshened up. My apartment was a corner unit on a high floor with a gorgeous view of the city; the light in the morning was always a beautiful and motivating way to wake up.

Except today.

Something was wrong. Everything seemed too bright. It started off as an uneasy feeling, but soon cascaded into pure, absolute terror.

I had a panic attack once before; I was 17 and taking the SAT for the first time. I remembered the adrenaline rush and visual white-out I had experienced for a little less than a minute during the second math section, purely brought on by my self-pressure to get a perfect score. This was different.

The feeling of doom that washed over me was undescribable. It was all-consuming and surreal. I remember feeling the desperate need to escape, but from what? My own head? It didn't feel like I was causing these feelings myself, it felt like something terrible had taken hold of my brain and I was held captive. The feeling persisted for hours. I lied on the floor and tried to control my breathing, and while it soothed the physical response, my brain was still compromised. The feeling was so intense I nearly lunged for a window to make it stop. I lived 23 years anxiety and depression free. I was the biggest optimist I knew; I wanted to live forever. What was happening to me?

"Must be stress or something." Despite my head still spinning in a frenzy, with deadlines to meet, I powered through and made my routine cup of coffee. Powering on my computer, I knew something was wrong. Although nearly impossible to explain, the light from my monitor appeared 'different.' No longer easy to focus on, the familiar display seemed aggressive and uncomfortable. My focal point had narrowed to the point where I could only really see a single word at a time. Yeah - I was scared. I figured it was residual adrenaline from my previous 'experience' and brushed it off.

That evening I picked up my girlfriend from the train station and we grabbed dinner. Despite being eight hours since my symptoms began, I was living in a different world. Everything seemed way too bright and greyed out, but almost 'dim' at the same time. I wasn't able to process my girlfriend's face properly; she seemed shadowy and muted. Although not the best decision in retrospect, my intelligent, well-thought-out solution to this medical mystery was to drink a bit too much sangria. For reasons I don't quite understand, it worked. I felt better, and woke up feeling surprisingly normal.

I spent the next day exploring the city with some local friends. It wasn't until I returned home when the feelings returned. As if a switch had been flipped, the room started to shimmer and shake and I began to go faint. I felt a sharp shooting pain on my right temple and excused myself to the restroom. The rest of my evening I spent disoriented, overwhelmed, and scared. The next morning, it seemed the feelings had stuck. It was the beginning of my journey. I don't know why, but I had this deep gut sense that I was in for a rough time... that this wouldn't be an overnight recovery. I couldn't have been more right.