Warning: Everything in this blog post are my own personal opinions. They related directly to me. Just because I am effected by anxiety like this doesn’t mean you are. Or that you need meds. Or that your brain is fucked. Or that I care.
Everything that I say in my entire blog is my opinion.
As always, if you don’t like it, click the X or choke on it.
I also apologize if I jump all over the place with this entry.
Everybody has their issues right? You know. Some kids eat paper. Some kids lick windows. Some kids kill their parents when they’re asleep. Some kids have imaginary friends until they are 27. Some kids have anxiety/panic disorders. I am the latter. I have been known to eat glue in my pre-grade school years but I’m not sure if that counts.
Anxiety. Panic. Fear. IRRATIONAL. Welcome to my day today. Welcome to bits and pieces of my life, but not my whole life. Come on. You know me. I’m outgoing, I talk a lot, I’m constantly on the go and slightly neurotic. Think about it. Have you knuckleheads seen me tweak out because of something simple? I’m sure you have. That’s controlled. A bad day like today? Yeaaaaah. I’m pretty sure I was curled up on my bedroom floor for a while after screaming at one of my cats for knocking stuff over. One of THOSE days.
Everyone has an off day, where every little freakin thing pisses them off. Add a little dose of a panic disorder and the world is ending. I woke up in a bad mood, and I knew right there today was going to suck. I managed to get into a good mood to pick up my munchkin and go grocery shopping. Also tore out the remnants of my closet and rearranged/moved everything. After that, when I wasn’t busy. I started to think. Finances. Friends. My house. My ex. You name it, before you know it I was damn near hysterics. Followed by not being able to breathe. Rinse and Repeat.
I’ve tried to explain in person what it feels like. Even over an IM earlier. It’s hard, and honestly quite embarrassing. When you’re in the middle of an anxiety attack, smaller, normal, every day troubles feel like some one died. I started thinking about my lack of a fulltime job and it felt like… the mere thought of it was stepping on my chest. My chest hurt, my heart felt like it was coming out of my chest. All the while, through all of the millions of thoughts going through my head, there was one consistant one. *A normal person can sit down and think this through*.
I am prescribed meds. Two different types, but like most psychiatric meds, I don’t like the way they make me feel. Clonopin, I don’t mind so much, it’s also used for sleep disorders and it does help. However, it’s addictive and I don’t feel comfortable taking it regularly. Welbutrin is the other one. I feel like I have no emotions or everything is fuzzy. I do not like how I feel coming off of it either. I’d rather just weather the storm. Unfortunately that means my friends and family do too (don’t worry, panic attacks or not, my daughter still doesn’t see them).
So that’s what my status updates were about today. I apologize. Kind of. Hell. I’m a tweak apparently, and I still don’t bitch as much as some of you. :)