I’m having a little bit of a panic attack right now and it is really hard to come up with the words to say, but I feel like this is the best thing to calm me down.
I’m sort of boxed in right now. This happens a lot. I feel cornered, conquered and imprisoned. They left me here alive. My body is a cage. I feel so horrified, disgusted and completely fragmented into a thousand parts of myself. My panic attacks come from lots of things - threatening people, severe guilt, overwhelming stress, feelings of failure and insecurity. Today, it’s failure and insecurity, which is much quieter than the other types of anxiety attacks I get.
My shoulders hurt from being so tense all the time. I feel like people must see me as someone who hunches a lot. I’m… tense. Or do I really have a hunch regardless?
This happens so fast and I feel thrusted off the face of a cliff, completely unprepared and just praying to hit the ground sooner. The acceleration is exhausting, tortuous and extremely disturbing. It is meshed with feelings of rage and defense, thoughts and desperate impulsions of violence. I love that I am paralyzed by my panic attacks (calm to other people) and I am, at the very least, able to exhaust these impulsions with purposeful visions (daydreams) of violence instead of actual actions. But they make me feel… really tainted to use thoughts of violence in such a comforting way.
Anxiety attacks are just hard to deal with.
Finding out my enneagram type has helped me a lot. Knowing, for a certainty, that I suffer from Anxiety Depression and knowing that regular exercise helps me be present and less reactive has been an important tool for me for the past several months. I’ve been reading up more on anxiety depression lately, and the suicide rates are fairly significant as compared to typical depression. I want to emphasize that these feelings and blogging here isn’t a cry for attention, (I’ve always a wretched guilt associated with selfishness about exposing my suicidal thoughts in real life for fear of being seen as egocentric, put down as trivial or taken too seriously) but is moreover a documentation of my sanity and… I guess my desperation for a safe place to truly belong. My writing style has changed since I’ve stopped spiritually blogging and now it’s an emergency pitstop when I’m lonely, full of dread, anger and sadness. I feel bad that I’ve associated mostly with LDS blogging, but I hope that the nature of my tumblr doesn’t bring anyone else down. I would be grateful if it gave others the confidence and capacity to understand themselves and others.
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I haven’t written in here for a while, but I’m kind of in a weird place. I’m not in school anymore and I’m between transferring and military. My depression anxiety hasn’t been bad, but last night it flared up after one humiliating incident of accidentally insulting a friend during a board game. I just really need to write today.
I started to panic when I realized he was semi-teaming up against me with my really competitive and frustrating male roommate probably ten - twenty minutes in. It was just hard to tell whether or not it was playful competition, and I’ve never been on the ‘bad side’ of this friend before. I wasn’t sure if he was mad at me, and the way he’d play the game indicated that he was VERY mad at me, but I knew he must’ve been playing around in a weird way. I could feel myself getting more and more frustrated and wondering, “Why am I playing this game if it’s getting me upset? This isn’t good for me.” I tried to calm down and tell myself nothing was wrong, but I could feel my anxiety escalating and I started having an anxiety attack. My friend was doing little things here and there to be, I guess, ‘competitive,’ but it kept making it worse and worse. So I had to stop and leave, and I don’t even know everything I said, but I feel really terrible about it and I don’t want him to think I did it because I was pissed or something.
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I write too much in my tumblr when I’m depressed. Here are some of the richest things in my life that I can’t be anything, but completely grateful for:
I have a dad with the power of the Priesthood
I have a space heater in my room
I have an ipod touch that I can watch Netflix on
what am I saying - I HAVE NETFLIX
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My sister beat her 3 year old child, who still cannot speak, to the point of apparently ‘near’-unconsciousness.
Foster Care gambles with rape/molestation, maybe even murder. Social Services might put a restraining order on the entire family in an effort to ensure no-contact with his mom. I… I don’t know what the right choice is. To send him away into the gamble that is Foster Care, or be a supportive aunt and help when… when I’m around I guess. And encourage my other family to keep an eye out… and tend to the boy. Dad would quit pulling loans if I sent his little grandchild away. Maybe if i become a big rich successful artist, I can swoop him away and give him the chance at life he deserves.
The one who abused my 3 year old nephew is your run-of-the-mill (pardon my language) used up trailer trash whore who led a man to believe her second child was his in an effort to get at his money. (Duh, they do a test for the father, don’t act surprised)
I swear I’ve seen potential in my siblings. I’ve seen so many good things about them, talents, and goodness in their hearts, some warm memories, but when they go out into the real world,
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I’m contemplating speaking with a doctor and talking to them about depression-anxiety. If I were to be diagnosed, I would forfeit my financial life-saver of entering into the military. But if I really can be treated with medication, I could potentially save my emotional life/actual-physical-exisence. Which means I could work stronger on my portfolio and possibly enhance my functionality to the point where I can start dating. And you know, that eliminates any chances of suicide too… But there’s a chance medication won’t work and I would have thrown away my only safety net.
It’s been so bad lately that I’ve skipped a lot of my classes this week. My teachers think I’m nice, and aren’t sure how to react because I’m a good kid… but at the same time I’m not doing their work and I think some of them are really interested in seeing the kinds of stuff I can make. Their disappointed faces look a lot like my dad’s… and that should be an incentive, especially when they go out of their way to impress upon me their disappointment, but it makes me shrink into myself.
If there’s anything I want, it’s for one of them to actually ASK what’s wrong (somewhat privately, not in front of the whole class) and just listen to me. I wouldn’t ask them to give me a good grade, I’d just ask that they stop impressing their disappointment and understand. I feel racked with guilt and shame all the time and I don’t know if it’s something that’s out of my control (trauma, illness etc.) that requires medication or if I’m not trying hard enough to be happy or to do… anything.
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