I never thought I would actually have one of "those"
So, yeah. I have panic attacks. I've had to in my life. One on Thursday, and a mini one today. I am not the person who gets panic attacks. I am not that girl. They don't happen to me. These things don't happen to me. Now that I got that bunch of bullshit out of the way.
so, i had another mini one today.
I lived through it. My mind didn't think I could. But its strange how your body starts to shut down and you go into this weird "grey" area. It kinda felt like the I was floating, watching the world from someone elses body. This isn't me, I thought as I got out of the car. My fiance was right behind me. I feel soo safe with him near me. Like nothing can hurt me. But somehow, in a quick manner, those feelings are going away. Is it that my love for him is changing? Maybe its leaving, I don't know. I just know that he was there, but I wasn't. So we get into the insurance building and I can feel it. It being the swell in my throat. The tingle in my chest, the picturesque look to everything. I feel like I was watching the world like it was a slide show. Every blink of my eye was like the change of a picture. No one was real, hell I wasn't even real. But, I remember, they end. They end. I called my mother just to hear her voice and tell her I love her. That grounds me. Nothing that I can do, my fiance can do will ground me. But my mothers voice cuts through the shit in my head, and hits my heart. Sometimes with a thud, but more than often with a soft caress. I didn't tell her I was having one. I didn't want to freak out more. Just feel normal. We leave that place, he drives. Ohh, I failed to mention that I was driving and as we pulled into the parking lot I felt it growing inside me. My pants were too tight, is what I can remember thinking to myself as I drove. It isn't letting me breathe properly. I think I hypervenhilate myself into this state. But, I digress. I let my fiance drive home and I breathe. I think to myself, breathe, in, out. In, out. My breath is echoing in my chest, my leg is propped up on the dash, my seat reclined. Death isn't here, love. I push that thought out of my clouded, quasi alert head. I feel dizzy, I feel faint. Maybe I am actually living, and what I was experencing before isn't living. I don't know. I don't know what living feels like. But as I keep breathing I am determined to know. To find out, to reclaim my "living". We get home and it looks like to me that he ran into the house. So I fumble for my things and I get into the house. My breathe, still trying to keep up with my heart. Its coming, I can feel it. So I let it slide out, I shall not fight it no longer. I panic. I try to make something to eat, because I wonder if I would feel better. I know I would feel better. But I couldn't. Maybe its my subconcious trying to starve myself cause I hate the way I look. I walk over to my brother, I talk to him. Tell him its happening. He understands, he had them to. The military gave him that present when he came home. He told me just find what calms you. I asked him what calms him, hugging our beloved old dog. I look at her, her eyebrows raised as if to ask me if I am okay. She knows, and with this knowing gaze she offers her head for me to hold. Her body for me to lie up against. Her heart for me to hear, to quiet me. I get up, fearing that If I lay there any longer I will just comotose. Sink into that "Grey" area again. I walk into my bedroom, fiance is breaking up some herb. I wish I could smoke it, but it causes this too. I think that was the first time I felt it. He understands me. He tries not to make a big deal of me freaking out. I feel sorry for him sometimes. All he wants is a nice relationship, and all I can give him is a roller coaster. A bunch of tears, frustrastion, anger, instablitity. I ask for him to lay with me, to ground me. He does. He grabs me, tells me I am okay. Its a tone that lets me know that I am okay. Why wouldn't I be okay. Nothing is wrong with me. I wish to believe it. I pray every night to believe that. But I know its somewhat the truth. I lay there, breathing, feeling my pulse. Waiting. Breathing, feeling my pulse. I go through this for a while. Fiance tells me to drink water, gives me a hug. He leaves for a friends house. Am I upset that he isn't here with me while I am going through this? No. Because I need to face this. This is my demon, my mind. So I get out of my bedroom, go into the living room. Talk to my brother, he is playing video games. I realize all this time, that no one was taking notice of me. Everyone went on with their business. No one stopped playing video games to rush over and ask me if I were okay. No one stopped breaking up herb to hold me. Let me cry. Instead, they gave me some reality. That this is something I am doing to myself. They aren't. Life isnt. I am doing this to myself. I am forgetting how to live. I am consuming myself with these horrid thoughts. I am going to die everntually. This is a basic truth. I am going to fall on my face a few times in my life. I must accept this. My mother will not always be in the next room. I must face this. I miss my father. I have to allow myself to feel this. I have to love myself. I just have to. So that brings me to here. Were I know that I can write this out.
My name is Kristen,
I suffer from an overworked mind,
overactive imagination,
a neglicted body,
a glimmering spirit,
and a panicing heart.
so, i had another mini one today.
I lived through it. My mind didn't think I could. But its strange how your body starts to shut down and you go into this weird "grey" area. It kinda felt like the I was floating, watching the world from someone elses body. This isn't me, I thought as I got out of the car. My fiance was right behind me. I feel soo safe with him near me. Like nothing can hurt me. But somehow, in a quick manner, those feelings are going away. Is it that my love for him is changing? Maybe its leaving, I don't know. I just know that he was there, but I wasn't. So we get into the insurance building and I can feel it. It being the swell in my throat. The tingle in my chest, the picturesque look to everything. I feel like I was watching the world like it was a slide show. Every blink of my eye was like the change of a picture. No one was real, hell I wasn't even real. But, I remember, they end. They end. I called my mother just to hear her voice and tell her I love her. That grounds me. Nothing that I can do, my fiance can do will ground me. But my mothers voice cuts through the shit in my head, and hits my heart. Sometimes with a thud, but more than often with a soft caress. I didn't tell her I was having one. I didn't want to freak out more. Just feel normal. We leave that place, he drives. Ohh, I failed to mention that I was driving and as we pulled into the parking lot I felt it growing inside me. My pants were too tight, is what I can remember thinking to myself as I drove. It isn't letting me breathe properly. I think I hypervenhilate myself into this state. But, I digress. I let my fiance drive home and I breathe. I think to myself, breathe, in, out. In, out. My breath is echoing in my chest, my leg is propped up on the dash, my seat reclined. Death isn't here, love. I push that thought out of my clouded, quasi alert head. I feel dizzy, I feel faint. Maybe I am actually living, and what I was experencing before isn't living. I don't know. I don't know what living feels like. But as I keep breathing I am determined to know. To find out, to reclaim my "living". We get home and it looks like to me that he ran into the house. So I fumble for my things and I get into the house. My breathe, still trying to keep up with my heart. Its coming, I can feel it. So I let it slide out, I shall not fight it no longer. I panic. I try to make something to eat, because I wonder if I would feel better. I know I would feel better. But I couldn't. Maybe its my subconcious trying to starve myself cause I hate the way I look. I walk over to my brother, I talk to him. Tell him its happening. He understands, he had them to. The military gave him that present when he came home. He told me just find what calms you. I asked him what calms him, hugging our beloved old dog. I look at her, her eyebrows raised as if to ask me if I am okay. She knows, and with this knowing gaze she offers her head for me to hold. Her body for me to lie up against. Her heart for me to hear, to quiet me. I get up, fearing that If I lay there any longer I will just comotose. Sink into that "Grey" area again. I walk into my bedroom, fiance is breaking up some herb. I wish I could smoke it, but it causes this too. I think that was the first time I felt it. He understands me. He tries not to make a big deal of me freaking out. I feel sorry for him sometimes. All he wants is a nice relationship, and all I can give him is a roller coaster. A bunch of tears, frustrastion, anger, instablitity. I ask for him to lay with me, to ground me. He does. He grabs me, tells me I am okay. Its a tone that lets me know that I am okay. Why wouldn't I be okay. Nothing is wrong with me. I wish to believe it. I pray every night to believe that. But I know its somewhat the truth. I lay there, breathing, feeling my pulse. Waiting. Breathing, feeling my pulse. I go through this for a while. Fiance tells me to drink water, gives me a hug. He leaves for a friends house. Am I upset that he isn't here with me while I am going through this? No. Because I need to face this. This is my demon, my mind. So I get out of my bedroom, go into the living room. Talk to my brother, he is playing video games. I realize all this time, that no one was taking notice of me. Everyone went on with their business. No one stopped playing video games to rush over and ask me if I were okay. No one stopped breaking up herb to hold me. Let me cry. Instead, they gave me some reality. That this is something I am doing to myself. They aren't. Life isnt. I am doing this to myself. I am forgetting how to live. I am consuming myself with these horrid thoughts. I am going to die everntually. This is a basic truth. I am going to fall on my face a few times in my life. I must accept this. My mother will not always be in the next room. I must face this. I miss my father. I have to allow myself to feel this. I have to love myself. I just have to. So that brings me to here. Were I know that I can write this out.
My name is Kristen,
I suffer from an overworked mind,
overactive imagination,
a neglicted body,
a glimmering spirit,
and a panicing heart.