Aphantasia, Intrusive thoughts, Mental Health

Intrusive Thoughts Without Imagery

Trigger Warning: This story contains content about suicide.

I suffer from mental illness, specifically depression, panic, and anxiety. All were well managed until the fall of 2021 when I experienced six weeks of the worst bout of acute panic and anxiety of my life. During this event, I also suffered from intrusive thoughts, which had never happened to me before. I was both surprised and terrified, as I didn’t think you could have intrusive thoughts without imagery. I was wrong.

How Can You Have Intrusive Thoughts Without Imagery?

Like myself, many people with aphantasia—the inability to visualize or create mental images—often get asked, “If you can’t visualize, how do you even think?” I was asked a similar question about having intrusive thoughts. “You have aphantasia, right? So how can you have intrusive thoughts without imagery?” It seems implausible to visualizers to have thoughts, intrusive or otherwise, without imagery.

Believe me, we can.

I was in bed sleeping. I awoke with a start, already in a state of panic. This is called nocturnal panic. As if the symptoms weren’t bad enough: racing heart, rapid breathing, trembling, chills, sweats, etc., the inevitable sense of doom one feels during a panic attack turned into a litany of intrusive thoughts tumbling out of my psyche.

“This is never going to end.”

“If this doesn’t end, will I hurt myself?”

“How will I hurt myself? Will I kill myself?”

“I could end it all, you know. Just get up, go to the bathroom, and swallow all the pills.”

“Why are my hands shaking? Am I going insane?”

“Is this what insane feels like?”

“They’re going to have me committed.”

“I’ve hurt my family enough.”

… and so on. There was no visual component to these thoughts. In fact, I was sinking into a pitch-black abyss, with no light and no sound—other than the thoughts in my head. Loud. Insistent. Brutal. Convincing. Terrifying.

Just like aphantasics have memories without imagery, so, too, do we have intrusive thoughts without imagery. For memories, my experience is one of feeling versus seeing. During recalled events, I may feel happy, sad, joyful, gleeful, annoyed, angry, depressed, silly, etc. These may be accompanied by somatic (of or relating to the body) responses: tears of joy, tears of sadness, clenched jaw, furrowed brow, increased heart rate, light-headedness, smiling, frowning, etc. 

An aphant can experience everything a visualizer can when it comes to memory recall. All that’s missing is the visual component. 

The same holds true for intrusive thoughts without imagery.

Remember, I had just been awakened by panic, so I was already suffering the human brain’s autonomic response to perceived danger: racing heart, rapid breathing, trembling, chills, sweats, etc. On top of that, I felt doubt, shame, terror, guilt, weakness, despondency, and defeat, along with every imaginable somatic sensation that goes with it, just as a visualizer might. All that was missing was the visual component.

You Don’t Need Imagery to Experience Suicidal Ideation or Intrusive Thoughts

After a long recovery that included medication and 18 months of therapy, and having experienced thoughts of suicide in 2012, I wanted to better understand what I had been through and how it was different from my past experience.

As I’ve come to understand it, when thinking about self-harm or suicide, it’s considered suicidal ideation. These thoughts are cognitive insomuch as you know you’re thinking about them. Intrusive thoughts are almost involuntary and, most certainly, irrational. Despite how much I wanted to live, to get back to a normal, panic- and anxiety-free life, my psyche had other ideas. Remember I mentioned thoughts that came tumbling out? My thoughts were rapid-fire, disjointed, comprehensible noise. 

“Is this what insane feels like?”

“Are they going to have me committed?”

These were very irrational thoughts.

Still, some of my intrusive thoughts had aspects of suicidal ideation, which can happen.

“How will I hurt myself? Will I kill myself?”

“I could end it all, you know. Just get up, go to the bathroom, and swallow all the pills.”

These thoughts were different from my experience in 2012. There was little to no cognition involved. Comprehension? Yes. Cognition? No. I understood what my thoughts were saying, but there was no forethought. 

Thanks to my ever-supportive husband, I was able to pull myself out of both the panic and the intrusive thoughts that night.

I later came to understand and appreciate that regardless of the fact that I had intrusive thoughts without imagery, they were equally disturbing and disruptive to my well-being and needed just as much attention in the way of mental illness support.

Thoughts About Aphantasia and Mental Illness

My experience with acute panic in 2021 left me in a fragile, traumatic state. The triggers were varied, whereby I relived the experience many times during months of recovery, somatically and, oftentimes, through auditory imagery.

There is no hard and fast rule nor indisputable evidence that states people with aphantasia can’t or don’t experience disruptive symptoms—like intrusive thoughts—associated with mental illness. One need only Google “aphantasia and PTSD” to see this. Scientific studies show mixed results. See Aphantasia and psychological disorder: Current connections, defining the imagery deficit and future directions and Fewer intrusive memories in aphantasia: using the trauma film paradigm as a laboratory model of PTSD as examples. There are also a myriad of personal accounts of people who experience flashbacks and flashforwards, sometimes with, sometimes without imagery. In this regard, I believe people with aphantasia are no different from visualizers. 

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If you or someone you know is thinking about suicide, please consult these Suicide Hotlines and Prevention Resources.

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Feature image by Pavel Danilyuk on Pexels.com

Anxiety, Mental Health, Panic Disorder, Trauma

Acute Panic – Looking for Answers Where None Exist

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Feature image by cottonbro of pexels.com.

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Anxiety, Cannabis, Panic Disorder

CBD for Anxiety Relief Gone Wrong

I have long since been an advocate for medical cannabis to help cure what ails you. The use of CBD for anxiety relief, for instance. Or, using THC to help alleviate depression.

To learn what cannabis is, and for CBD and THC definitions, click here.

Whether as a substitute for traditional medicine or in addition to it, cannabis helps millions of people around the globe.

Recently, I used CBD for acute anxiety relief, and it went horribly wrong. I’m still trying to figure out what the <bleep> went wrong!

Why I Initially Chose CBD for Anxiety Relief

I started using cannabis to treat mental illness alongside my prescribed medication—an SSRI—several years ago when I entered perimenopause. Increased anxiety is often a symptom of perimenopause. Nobody ever told me that. Mood swings and hot flashes? Sure. But anxiety? No. Not even my doctor.

At the time, my doctor chose to deal with my fluctuating anxiety by changing my prescription altogether. This resulted in a shit-storm of side effects ranging from the dreaded brain zaps to exacerbated tinnitus and elevated blood pressure. I wrote it about here.

I learned that many people were using cannabis for—among other things—relief from symptoms of mental illness. Given I suffer(ed) from anxiety and depression, I decided to give it a try and had great success. Until I didn’t.

The Lead-Up to Reintroducing CBD

In August 2021, after months of having slowly ceased all medications, supplements, and cannabis use—I wanted to do a full-body reset—I had a massive collapse. I don’t use those words lightly. I suffered days and nights filled with wave after wave of panic attacks. For weeks, I was in a perpetual fight-or-flight loop. It got so bad one night that I even went to the emergency room. You can read the whole story here.

By mid-September, I was in a precarious state of recovery. The panic attacks had mainly subsided, but fluctuating anxiety was still a huge problem.

To learn more about how CBD and SSRIs may interact, click here.

I had started therapy and was waiting for my SSRI to kick in—the same SSRI I had weaned myself off of six months prior. Because my doctor didn’t want to prescribe any additional medication quite yet, I thought that I could reintroduce CBD to help bridge the gap.

Before using CBD to relieve my anxiety, I consulted with my medical cannabis clinic. They agreed that CBD could help and advised me to start low and go slow—the cannabis-use mantra. They reminded me of potential side effects—headache, drowsiness, diarrhea, etc.—that could last for a few days.

I had taken as much as 50mg of CBD a day in the past. Keeping low and slow in mind, I decided to start at 20% of that dose. I ordered 10mg gel caps from my favorite provider—very credible—and waited for them to arrive.

When Using CBD Went Horribly Wrong

On average, ingested cannabis products take about 90 minutes before any effects are felt. In my case, it was around that 90-minute mark on that first day that I got a mild headache. I expected it and wasn’t too concerned. Anxiety feeds on fear and uncertainty, but I was confident in CBD given my past experience.

The next day, I took CBD again, and again, I got a headache after about 90 minutes. This time the headache was stronger and was accompanied by some anxiety. Given I was already suffering from fluctuating anxiety throughout the day, I pushed through. I woke up several times that night, my anxiety mounting.

On the third day of taking CBD for anxiety relief, I got a pounding headache and became agitated, restless, and fearful. I could feel the anxiety climbing higher and higher. I woke in the middle of the night in full fight-or-flight mode with intrusive thoughts speeding through my psyche: I’m better off dead. I can’t take it anymore. How many pills would it take to end this nightmare?

The panic was scary. But the kinds of thoughts I had were terrifying!

Given I had changed nothing else in my treatment, the only rational conclusion was that the CBD wreaked havoc on my fragile system. I ceased taking CBD after only 3 days and haven’t taken it again since.

Can CBD Provide Anxiety Relief in the Future?

Not only did cannabis help me in the past, but I enjoyed it. Having ceased drinking alcohol several years ago, along with the therapeutic benefits of cannabis, THC was fun to consume. It definitely helped with my depression.

I don’t know why my body reacted to CBD the way it did this time. Maybe it was because I had only restarted my SSRI a few weeks prior. Maybe it was because I didn’t start low and slow enough. I’m sure I’ll never know why for sure.

I incorrectly assumed that my body could handle CBD as it had in the past for the treatment of anxiety. This time, that was unfortunately not the case.

I will continue to advocate for cannabis, though, because I really do believe that it can help. As for me, I may try cannabis again in the future, just not anytime soon.

Feature image by BATCH by Wisconsin Hemp Scientific on Unsplash.

See more of my mental health posts here. For more posts on cannabis, click here.