I'm in a horrible mood. I've not been sleeping well and on the verge of panic attacks. In fact, I've even been having them again. I had one the other night over something stupid and then I cried the first half of therapy and made absolutely no sense. I don't feel well, things are stressful, and I somewhat want to crawl into a hole and just wish it all away.
It won't go away though, so as I calm down, I begin to prioritize what I can and cannot fix. I'm working on my computer, which keeps doing annoying things. The thing is, I'm not very GOOD at working on my computer and know very little about it. I hate being ignorant, but I refuse to be willfully ignorant of this, so I'll keep reading and rereading until I understand.
I miss gas being cheap. Back in the day, when gas was blissfully a dollar a gallon, I would get in my car and just drive. I would drive and drive, sometimes just in the same loop, for however long it took to clear my head. It was the best stress relief ever. Gas is too expensive to do that now, which is frightening because I know a lot of people de-stressed that way. I wonder what they do now? I wonder how many glasses get broken and marriages are breaking up because someone couldn't afford to just drive around for an hour.
I started a workbook for adult victims of sexual abuse. On one hand, I'm happy about it. On the other hand, I'm skeptical. One of the first assumptions the book makes is that the purpose of finding a way past sexual abuse is "the goal of learning to love, not pain management." Not sure how I feel about that. I'd much rather have my pain managed and handled. Love isn't really all that much of a priority right now. Maybe that shows how far gone I am.
I know a lot of that has to do with my anxiety levels. When they're high, I want less social, less feeling, less life, not more. I know I'll get past it, but in the moment it's hard. Numb sounds so good right now. Numb numb numb. It would be such bliss.
If you've never suffered from anxiety, it's a tricky thing. It makes some people loud, violent, and angry. It makes other people weepy and hopeless. Some people become frozen in place. Some become suicidal. Sometimes you are all of this, all at once, all of it spiraling inside of your head, making it hard to breath or function or even live.
When the panic subsides, I'm always left reflective, jaded, and cynical. I'm always angry that the panic attack happened, that I was betrayed by my own chemistry. I understand, in those moments, oh so well why people become addicts. Renton made so much sense to me in Trainspotting when he said, "Choose life... But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin' else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you've got heroin?"
Not that I'll do smack. I don't have the money for smack. Beyond that, I know better. I know the anxiety will pass and I'll be back to positive perky happy me. Until then, we just hold on for dear life and hope to fuck nothing happens to trip me over the edge into another panic attack.
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