So these horrible things just continue.  I often go in spurts with these palpitations.  They started 4 years ago.  I remember the day distinctly, because it was the day of my friends wedding.  Later that evening, I experienced the palpitations for the first time.  For a while after that, they were sporadic.  An episode here, an episode here.  Initially, I literally thought I was on the verge of death.  One too many web searches fueled my gloom and doom attitude.  A visit to the ER and a cardiologist lead me to believe I was beginning my psychological decline.  After a brief affair with zoloft or whatever mood-enhancing/altering drug they prescribed me, I ceased all contact with physicians for about 2 years.   In retrospect,  I suppose they would automatically assume that I was merely suffering from stress or panic attacks or something like that..at the time, I was about 5 months from my wedding.  Nevertheless, they’ve never gone away.  As I sit here writing this, they punctuate my thoughts better than my periods and commas amongst my words.  At any rate, my life is far from stressful.  Ironically, the only significant source of stress I feel is when the onset of palpitations occur.  They are literally so close to driving me crazy that when they occur, I allow my life to stop.  Whatever I am doing ceases. At their onset, I cease to live in the moment and retreat inside a shell of self-pity and terror.   From the reading I’ve done online, there are many times of palpitations.  What I experience is a prolonged, exaggerated pause, which immediately makes me acutely aware of the functioning of my heart.  It normally occurs in strings for 15 minutes or so.  Sometimes longer.  About every 8th beat will not happen, then two beats occur quickly, as if it is catching up.  That’s the only way I can explain it.  Someone who hasn’t experienced this mental trauma probably thinks I’m crazy.  At least my husband doesn’t thinkI’m crazy   God, I love him!  He has felt them happen through my pulse and heard them by pressing my ear against my chest.  Granted, when he feels/hears them, he looks at me as if I’ve grown a third ear or  eye and says, “Why aren’t you going to the doctor?” 

I guess I’m just ranting and raving on here.  Totally and completely fed-up with this happening.  And I’m exhausted.  And when I say exhausted, I mean that I’m to the point that I can get 8 hours of sleep a night, and then can very easily drift off on a morning as well as an afternoon nap.  Not to mention I have no energy.  Perhaps it’s my state of mind?  I welcome any comments of stories that are similar to mine!