Panic Attacks
From 1:27 this afternoon: I just had a panic attack. I came all the way up to work to sit in my office and cry. I called my father and told him John and I abused adderall for about a year and a half. He told me I'm okay, that I haven't ruined myself forever, that I'm not going to die. He said he loves me and that I'll always be his Mushi. He told me to get out of my office and go somewhere nice and come up with a plan.
Continued:
Thank God I was able to tell him that. Thank God he still loves me. Now everyone in my family knows. That was my biggest secret. They all still love me.
Pop believes this surreality, this overtired-ness, that I've been experiencing for the past month or so to be related to my severe depression and anxiety. I am trying to calm down. I asked Miriam to help me find a therapist with a sliding scale. I'm also going to try meditating.
I've renounced alcohol. At least until I figure my life out and feel healthier. When I return to it, I want to be moderate. No more of this excessiveness. I know I've said this before, but I feel settled on it this time in a way many other things have been settling on me lately regarding health. For instance, I haven't had sugar, dairy, grains, or processed foods for about a three weeks to a month now. I've canceled all my drinking engagements for this upcoming week. I hope it's not a problem with my new roommates, who seem to love grabbing drinks together (and want me to join in). I highly doubt it will be, though. I'll tell them I'm detoxing and then try and keep it light with them...hopefully.
Josh and I have repaired things, which is good. I'm trying to reach out to him more, in spite of my wish to keep my problems from being a burden to everyone. I texted him during my panic attack, and he called me and calmed me down.
I just have to figure out what happens next. That's all. That, and I need to figure out subleasing my apartment.
Continued:
Thank God I was able to tell him that. Thank God he still loves me. Now everyone in my family knows. That was my biggest secret. They all still love me.
Pop believes this surreality, this overtired-ness, that I've been experiencing for the past month or so to be related to my severe depression and anxiety. I am trying to calm down. I asked Miriam to help me find a therapist with a sliding scale. I'm also going to try meditating.
I've renounced alcohol. At least until I figure my life out and feel healthier. When I return to it, I want to be moderate. No more of this excessiveness. I know I've said this before, but I feel settled on it this time in a way many other things have been settling on me lately regarding health. For instance, I haven't had sugar, dairy, grains, or processed foods for about a three weeks to a month now. I've canceled all my drinking engagements for this upcoming week. I hope it's not a problem with my new roommates, who seem to love grabbing drinks together (and want me to join in). I highly doubt it will be, though. I'll tell them I'm detoxing and then try and keep it light with them...hopefully.
Josh and I have repaired things, which is good. I'm trying to reach out to him more, in spite of my wish to keep my problems from being a burden to everyone. I texted him during my panic attack, and he called me and calmed me down.
I just have to figure out what happens next. That's all. That, and I need to figure out subleasing my apartment.