Fuck.
It's 2 am here and I'm writing right now because I can't find anyone else to turn to. I tried to go to sleep just now, and I was laying in bed for about half an hour and all of a sudden, my stomach cramped up and I started having an anxiety attack and my head was flooded with all these horrible thoughts and I got really uncomfortable and my heart started pounding and I started compulsively whispering "It's OK, it's OK" and "Shit, shit shit..." to myself. So I thought that before things got worse, I'd go find someone to talk to. I went upstairs to find Sam, but her wasn't there. So I went to the phone booth to call my sister, but it was occupied. And then I started to feel even worse because I felt like I had nobody I could talk to. So I went back to my room and cried and freaked out some more. Except Stacey was sleeping, so I couldn't even freak out properly. And now I'm sitting in the only hallway the gets internet typing this and very slowly calming down. But I keep seeing people I know, and about 6 or 8 drunk assholes decided to congregate on the stairs and have a very loud chat, despite the fact that much of campus has to be on a bus at 8 am tomorrow morning to go to this conference we're having. And all I want is somebody to maybe hug me and tell me that I'm not completely alone.
I thought I was done having these stupid panic attacks. The medicine helped for a while. I don't know if it's working that well anymore. I miss therapy. I miss not hating myself. I don't know what's wrong with me. I just want it to stop. I'm tired of being embarrassed and feeling guilty. And useless. And unwanted.
So now I guess I'm going to go back to bed. Because I can't handle the random sloshed aquaintances that meander by every few seconds with a loud, slurred greeting. I don't think I'll be able to sleep. My stomach hurts and I still feel edgy. And this whole fucking building is reverberating with chaotic noise. I wish I had sleeping pills or Xanax or pot. Fuck. I just want to sleep.
I thought I was done having these stupid panic attacks. The medicine helped for a while. I don't know if it's working that well anymore. I miss therapy. I miss not hating myself. I don't know what's wrong with me. I just want it to stop. I'm tired of being embarrassed and feeling guilty. And useless. And unwanted.
So now I guess I'm going to go back to bed. Because I can't handle the random sloshed aquaintances that meander by every few seconds with a loud, slurred greeting. I don't think I'll be able to sleep. My stomach hurts and I still feel edgy. And this whole fucking building is reverberating with chaotic noise. I wish I had sleeping pills or Xanax or pot. Fuck. I just want to sleep.