The Wanlorn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
the_wanlorn) wrote2010-06-28 12:47 am
the_wanlorn) wrote2010-06-28 12:47 am
Entry tags:
NOTHING TO SEE HERE MOVE ALONG PEOPLE
Today (or, well, technically, yesterday. But also today, right now, because I have not gone to bed yet.) has been one of those days where I'm just screaming "JESUSFUCKCHRIST" at the world over and over again because maybe it will make the fucking anxiety go away.
(It doesn't.)
I am having one of those days where I am completely and utterly paralyzed by anxiety for no fucking reason. And everything I do just makes it worse.
Like, my level of "functioning" today has been "swim, put food in my mouth, try not to cry, try not to breathe deeply because it feels like I can't get enough air but if I'm breathing shallowly on purpose then I can convince my body that I'm not suffocating because I'm doing it purposefully and thus it won't get worse" and that is pretty much it.
Also: getting crazy all the fuck over everyone who talks to me.
It's one of those things where I want someone to say exactly the right thing to make me calm down about X, except whatever I think is the magic sentence that will work isn't actually the magic sentence because there is no magic sentence, and even if there was my ability to manipulate people into saying what I want (because if I just tell them to say it then it defeats the purpose because they're just saying it because I told them to not because it's true YES I SEE THE LOGICAL FLAW THERE THANK YOU) is pretty much nonexistent so I just give up after the first thirty seconds going ACTUALLY, YES, SELF, WHAT YOU ARE THINKING IS CORRECT WHICH IS WHY IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO GET ANYONE TO TELL YOU IT'S BULLSHIT WHICH IS WHY YOU SHOULD JUST SHUT UP AND GO AWAY BECAUSE NOBODY LIKES YOU.
And then I forget that I'm breathing shallowly on purpose and go to take a deep breath except it feels like I can't (even though I know I am) which just makes everything worse. Meanwhile, some invisible giant asshole is squeezing my chest in his fist and socking me in the stomach at the same time.
And this has been going on for, ooh, about thirteen hours now.
Needless to say, I am a little bit frazzled.
And I can't call up my doctor and ask for a sooner appointment because lol anxiety because when I was there the other week (for the first time in fucking eight months because of the whole insurance thing and then the "but the health center at school is free even though I never get to see the same doctor" thing) I said the anxiety was fine, and he'd be like "...but you said..." and then I'd have to explain that, yes, I said it was fine, but what I really meant was "Oh, fuck, I never made the connection between the crazy anxiety I've been having and that I'm on wellbutrin because of the in-between time when I wasn't on anything and was all fucked up in every way possible that now just getting some of the EPIC SOULCRUSHING DEPRESSION gone makes me feel a million times better that I completely forgot that this feeling of panic at having to do the most ridiculous thing isn't normal and oh fuck I was supposed to answer that question fuck I don't have time to think about what to say now it's fine!"
TL;DR: When faced with an unexpected question, my answer is always either "yes" or "it's fine" regardless of whether it actually is.
BUT, YES, I SEE THE COMPLETE CRAZINESS IN MY UNWILLINGNESS TO DO THAT I AM SURE I WILL GET OVER IT SOMEDAY.
The point being, typing this all up has not actually made me feel better, which I am sure surprises precisely no one so it is all going under a cut and I am going back to reading comics, trying not to think about anything, and wondering if getting riproaring drunk for the first time in two-ish years is the solution.
(It probably is not.)
(It doesn't.)
I am having one of those days where I am completely and utterly paralyzed by anxiety for no fucking reason. And everything I do just makes it worse.
Like, my level of "functioning" today has been "swim, put food in my mouth, try not to cry, try not to breathe deeply because it feels like I can't get enough air but if I'm breathing shallowly on purpose then I can convince my body that I'm not suffocating because I'm doing it purposefully and thus it won't get worse" and that is pretty much it.
Also: getting crazy all the fuck over everyone who talks to me.
It's one of those things where I want someone to say exactly the right thing to make me calm down about X, except whatever I think is the magic sentence that will work isn't actually the magic sentence because there is no magic sentence, and even if there was my ability to manipulate people into saying what I want (because if I just tell them to say it then it defeats the purpose because they're just saying it because I told them to not because it's true YES I SEE THE LOGICAL FLAW THERE THANK YOU) is pretty much nonexistent so I just give up after the first thirty seconds going ACTUALLY, YES, SELF, WHAT YOU ARE THINKING IS CORRECT WHICH IS WHY IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO GET ANYONE TO TELL YOU IT'S BULLSHIT WHICH IS WHY YOU SHOULD JUST SHUT UP AND GO AWAY BECAUSE NOBODY LIKES YOU.
And then I forget that I'm breathing shallowly on purpose and go to take a deep breath except it feels like I can't (even though I know I am) which just makes everything worse. Meanwhile, some invisible giant asshole is squeezing my chest in his fist and socking me in the stomach at the same time.
And this has been going on for, ooh, about thirteen hours now.
Needless to say, I am a little bit frazzled.
And I can't call up my doctor and ask for a sooner appointment because lol anxiety because when I was there the other week (for the first time in fucking eight months because of the whole insurance thing and then the "but the health center at school is free even though I never get to see the same doctor" thing) I said the anxiety was fine, and he'd be like "...but you said..." and then I'd have to explain that, yes, I said it was fine, but what I really meant was "Oh, fuck, I never made the connection between the crazy anxiety I've been having and that I'm on wellbutrin because of the in-between time when I wasn't on anything and was all fucked up in every way possible that now just getting some of the EPIC SOULCRUSHING DEPRESSION gone makes me feel a million times better that I completely forgot that this feeling of panic at having to do the most ridiculous thing isn't normal and oh fuck I was supposed to answer that question fuck I don't have time to think about what to say now it's fine!"
TL;DR: When faced with an unexpected question, my answer is always either "yes" or "it's fine" regardless of whether it actually is.
BUT, YES, I SEE THE COMPLETE CRAZINESS IN MY UNWILLINGNESS TO DO THAT I AM SURE I WILL GET OVER IT SOMEDAY.
The point being, typing this all up has not actually made me feel better, which I am sure surprises precisely no one so it is all going under a cut and I am going back to reading comics, trying not to think about anything, and wondering if getting riproaring drunk for the first time in two-ish years is the solution.
(It probably is not.)
no subject
ILU BB.
no subject
no subject