Panic Noodles!
I've been on the edge of a real tearass tweeker all day. I hate this random panic attack shit. For the last couple months I've been okay, but it's starting to slip again, partly because I'm finally coming down off the stress over Christmas, I think. My brain is finally processing everything.
Took it long enough.
The upshot is that for the past three nights I've done nothing but have nightmares. I close my eyes, I have bad dreams about dead people and being lost. Even when I nap for an hour, I have nightmares. And being unable to rest ups my chances of having a panic attack by at least 400%. Someone please tell me this is normal and, you know, TEMPORARY.
I managed to short-circuit this for a little while this evening by slathering myself in yummy perfume and napping with my face glommed onto my wrist, hoping that the smell would soothe me. I dreamed about a vampiric, snake-haired Monica Belluci putting the undead moves on an earnest yet dorky Orlando Bloom. And in the dream, the vamp-queen Monica had three vampire brides. Yeah, the hotness quotient was high. I woke up with the left side of my face covered in drool.
So that's an improvement. The dream was still unsettling, but at least I got tits out of the deal, which is more than I can say about the other crap my brain's been inflicting on me. Yuck.
Oh. And, re: the icon. I have a book called the "Anxiety and Phobia Workbook" by Edmund Bourne, and at one point, Sargon saw it and remarked that it would be more fun if it were the "Anxiety and Phobia Cookbook." Desensitization Sushi, Raw Nerve Steak Tartare, Agoraphobic Chicken, Unpleasant Surprise, etc. And for some reason, "Panic Noodles" cracked us both the fuck up. It works as a metaphor for the panicked brain ("use your noodle"), too.
So, from here on out, Panic Noodles it is.
Took it long enough.
The upshot is that for the past three nights I've done nothing but have nightmares. I close my eyes, I have bad dreams about dead people and being lost. Even when I nap for an hour, I have nightmares. And being unable to rest ups my chances of having a panic attack by at least 400%. Someone please tell me this is normal and, you know, TEMPORARY.
I managed to short-circuit this for a little while this evening by slathering myself in yummy perfume and napping with my face glommed onto my wrist, hoping that the smell would soothe me. I dreamed about a vampiric, snake-haired Monica Belluci putting the undead moves on an earnest yet dorky Orlando Bloom. And in the dream, the vamp-queen Monica had three vampire brides. Yeah, the hotness quotient was high. I woke up with the left side of my face covered in drool.
So that's an improvement. The dream was still unsettling, but at least I got tits out of the deal, which is more than I can say about the other crap my brain's been inflicting on me. Yuck.
Oh. And, re: the icon. I have a book called the "Anxiety and Phobia Workbook" by Edmund Bourne, and at one point, Sargon saw it and remarked that it would be more fun if it were the "Anxiety and Phobia Cookbook." Desensitization Sushi, Raw Nerve Steak Tartare, Agoraphobic Chicken, Unpleasant Surprise, etc. And for some reason, "Panic Noodles" cracked us both the fuck up. It works as a metaphor for the panicked brain ("use your noodle"), too.
So, from here on out, Panic Noodles it is.