Risky business
Words often fail me.
But, apparently on Tuesday, they did not.
I might've written the most honest thing I have ever written in my life. It required shutting my brain off and, cheesily enough, writing with my heart. I was so afraid, so afraid of how she would react, but apparently, for once in my life, I actually got through to someone what I wanted to get through to them.
I'm thinking about posting it. It's actually good, strangely enough. Good thing I have the convenient excuse of not having it with me at the moment.
I really don't know what happened yesterday. Christine calls it a panic attack and claims that I've done it before, but this felt so different. I was so confused, so incredibly confused. I don't know what happened. Here's my description:
It was a long day, but that's not exactly abnormal. It was an emotional day too; I shared the song with Meg and felt like I had left all of me out on the table for her to see, which was kind of draining. Then I was stupid and went to Bible study and listened to a whole bunch of people debating over Revelation, which is completely over my head and makes me think crazy things. Then I went back and I sat in the room with Meg and as I was sitting there I just kind of... I don't know.
My head started to feel funny. Really funny. I felt lightheaded, which didn't make any sense at all. I started to tense up a little bit. I felt like I should be laying down, so I did so, and as soon as I put my head down the world disconnected itself.
It was so strange... it was difficult to breathe. I was just laying there, curled up in a ball, staring, breathing jaggedly. I felt like I should have been shaking, so I looked at my hands to tell, but I couldn't tell if I was shaking or not. I thought, "I should sleep," but then I started thinking "Oh, my; there's something really, really wrong with me, and if I fall asleep, I'll die." It felt like part of my consciousness had just disconnected itself and I was this empty shell freaking out on the bed. Meg was just sitting there, rubbing my shoulder, and I couldn't tell if she knew what was going on, and I couldn't explain it to there, so I just lay there, struggling for breath and for some kind of ability to make it make sense. I failed horribly at both.
I went numb. I couldn't feel anything at all, I couldn't, and I was so confused and scared. I couldn't tell if I was real so I dug my nail into my palm, hard, for a significant period of time. I know that that hurts; when I was talking to Meg a couple of weeks ago I was doing it nervously and it hurt like hell. But I couldn't feel it. I could see the red part, the area that was already starting to bruise, but I couldn't feel it. It felt removed, somehow; disconnected and not part of me. Meg saw me do it; she grasped my hand and asked me very softly to please not hurt myself. Then I really started getting scared. I wanted to tell her that I wouldn't, but I couldn't promise her that. If I couldn't feel pain, then what could I feel? I was so confused. I told her that I was confused, that I felt not real, and that, scarily enough, I wanted to just beat myself into something to make sure I was there.
I was so confused. I was shaking, pretty badly by this point, and I couldn't get my head to clear. I couldn't get the world to come back. I could see and hear everything, and I could feel Meg's thumb making a circle on my hand, but it was all disconnected from me--all far away and dull. I was sure I was going crazy. I've never felt like that before, ever. As much as I wanted to be numb, I never managed it; I just managed to hurt myself. I honestly couldn't feel; the world was gone and wasn't going back, and I didn't want to go to sleep because I thought I would die. I didn't want to be alone because I couldn't feel and would hurt myself, and I couldn't calm down. I tried to stand up, but my legs didn't hold me, so I sat back down and proceeded to freak Meg out again by showing her that I couldn't feel anything.
After what I think was about an hour, I asked her to go get Christine, who came and told me I wasn't going crazy. It was just a panic attack. But was it? I really don't know. She and Meg both told me I need to get help...is a panic attack worth that?
I just sat with Meg for a long time after that, and after a while I calmed down. I even fell asleep; I slept through the night and I didn't die, so I know that was just a delusion. I felt better this morning, slightly. I was calm; it didn't hurt to breathe.
But the world's still not back yet.
Just a panic attack?
Maybe I'm just making this shit up. Maybe I want the attention. Maybe it's really not as bad as I think it is.
Or maybe I'm going crazy.
I don't know which is worse.
But, apparently on Tuesday, they did not.
I might've written the most honest thing I have ever written in my life. It required shutting my brain off and, cheesily enough, writing with my heart. I was so afraid, so afraid of how she would react, but apparently, for once in my life, I actually got through to someone what I wanted to get through to them.
I'm thinking about posting it. It's actually good, strangely enough. Good thing I have the convenient excuse of not having it with me at the moment.
I really don't know what happened yesterday. Christine calls it a panic attack and claims that I've done it before, but this felt so different. I was so confused, so incredibly confused. I don't know what happened. Here's my description:
It was a long day, but that's not exactly abnormal. It was an emotional day too; I shared the song with Meg and felt like I had left all of me out on the table for her to see, which was kind of draining. Then I was stupid and went to Bible study and listened to a whole bunch of people debating over Revelation, which is completely over my head and makes me think crazy things. Then I went back and I sat in the room with Meg and as I was sitting there I just kind of... I don't know.
My head started to feel funny. Really funny. I felt lightheaded, which didn't make any sense at all. I started to tense up a little bit. I felt like I should be laying down, so I did so, and as soon as I put my head down the world disconnected itself.
It was so strange... it was difficult to breathe. I was just laying there, curled up in a ball, staring, breathing jaggedly. I felt like I should have been shaking, so I looked at my hands to tell, but I couldn't tell if I was shaking or not. I thought, "I should sleep," but then I started thinking "Oh, my; there's something really, really wrong with me, and if I fall asleep, I'll die." It felt like part of my consciousness had just disconnected itself and I was this empty shell freaking out on the bed. Meg was just sitting there, rubbing my shoulder, and I couldn't tell if she knew what was going on, and I couldn't explain it to there, so I just lay there, struggling for breath and for some kind of ability to make it make sense. I failed horribly at both.
I went numb. I couldn't feel anything at all, I couldn't, and I was so confused and scared. I couldn't tell if I was real so I dug my nail into my palm, hard, for a significant period of time. I know that that hurts; when I was talking to Meg a couple of weeks ago I was doing it nervously and it hurt like hell. But I couldn't feel it. I could see the red part, the area that was already starting to bruise, but I couldn't feel it. It felt removed, somehow; disconnected and not part of me. Meg saw me do it; she grasped my hand and asked me very softly to please not hurt myself. Then I really started getting scared. I wanted to tell her that I wouldn't, but I couldn't promise her that. If I couldn't feel pain, then what could I feel? I was so confused. I told her that I was confused, that I felt not real, and that, scarily enough, I wanted to just beat myself into something to make sure I was there.
I was so confused. I was shaking, pretty badly by this point, and I couldn't get my head to clear. I couldn't get the world to come back. I could see and hear everything, and I could feel Meg's thumb making a circle on my hand, but it was all disconnected from me--all far away and dull. I was sure I was going crazy. I've never felt like that before, ever. As much as I wanted to be numb, I never managed it; I just managed to hurt myself. I honestly couldn't feel; the world was gone and wasn't going back, and I didn't want to go to sleep because I thought I would die. I didn't want to be alone because I couldn't feel and would hurt myself, and I couldn't calm down. I tried to stand up, but my legs didn't hold me, so I sat back down and proceeded to freak Meg out again by showing her that I couldn't feel anything.
After what I think was about an hour, I asked her to go get Christine, who came and told me I wasn't going crazy. It was just a panic attack. But was it? I really don't know. She and Meg both told me I need to get help...is a panic attack worth that?
I just sat with Meg for a long time after that, and after a while I calmed down. I even fell asleep; I slept through the night and I didn't die, so I know that was just a delusion. I felt better this morning, slightly. I was calm; it didn't hurt to breathe.
But the world's still not back yet.
Just a panic attack?
Maybe I'm just making this shit up. Maybe I want the attention. Maybe it's really not as bad as I think it is.
Or maybe I'm going crazy.
I don't know which is worse.