Whale 7

As you may know, I’ve been away for the past week. I did my only post while on the trip thanks to a lucky connection I managed to make while peeing at 5 in the morning. As a result I …

Panic inside

Being having panic moments since yesterday. I start sweating like crazy, my heartbeats rise, and I feel like I could die. And I want to die. I actually dreamt I was about to be killed by a lunatic and in my dream I just closed my eyes and hoped that he did it, I didn’t put up a fight, I just lowered my arms and silently waited for him to slash my throat. Nice huh?

I wanted to write yesterday about how I was feeling, but nothing sounded right. Perhaps because nothing IS right. Some of the stuff I was writing yesterday looked like this little draft I forgot to erase:

My life’s just too much for me. I’m glad it’s Sunday because I can’t handle Monday. I’m a chronic underachiever. Not only have I been given an education and basic needs covered, I’ve been blessed with some level of talent, wits, and common sense. And yet, I keep complaining about life, get into financial troubles, am stuck in the final chapter of my thesis, and single-handedly manage to make my life miserable. Because lets face it, blaming your parents can only get you so far. Why am I not stronger? Why I am sick? I guess I just wish I wasn’t such a loser.

Mr. Shrinky says my dream was very important because I’m learning to cope in different ways other than self-harm. I haven’t cut despite of how overwhelmed I feel. Instead I dreamt that someone else did it for me, and come to think about it, the dream has indeed helped because I haven’t felt that horrible urge all day long even when I’ve had such a dreadful one.

I feel like I’m doing a fool’s dance. One step forward, two steps back. It may have been some sort of breakthrough…but that doesn’t change the fact that my life is too much for me. People are starting to be condescendent with me: they are nicer, they let me get away with whatever’s on my mind, they look at me and stop themselves from saying things that may hurt me. Because they feel (or know) I’m weak, I can’t handle stuff, I’m broken. Ugh…

Anxiété

I feel so dumb after my last post. I feel like protecting it or even erasing it. It’s a one-thousand-word whine about how embarrassed and humiliated I felt. Truth is I could’ve saved my readers from it, it was nothing more than a public display of what an anxiety disorder looks like. Well… when I put it that way I guess I can find some use for it and leave it there. I’ll change its name and it’ll stay put, maybe someday it can help someone.

Right now I feel much better, though it was a very tough morning, with whines on Facebook and Twitter included. There should be an emergency protocol for when my AD peaks, where I was banned from any form of internet ramblings. Anyhow, glad things are stabilizing a little. I’m not sure what it’ll be like tomorrow when I have to show my face in Mount Olympus though.

I wish I could go through these kinds of situations, like the one yesterday, like a normal person. I wish it didn’t affect me so hard. But I’ll stop whining about that too before I get sad again.

Thanks for your support, it helped me so much!

 

My hidden words

Tonight my left hand aches too much. I haven’t mentioned that my hands, specially but not only my wrists, are quite faulty and apparently came without spares, which has meant two right-hand surgeries and excruciating pain from physical therapies; and now my left hand seems to want to join the club. It’s been mildly bothering me for at least two years but this is the second time in the same number of weeks that I’ve been unable to use my hand from the pain it’s causing me, and what worries me is that I know this pain, it’s the same I felt on the other hand before I had to get the first surgery, so that can’t be good news.

Aaanyhow, the point being that my hand in pain, together with the guilt for having spent yet another day without much progress on my ongoing-torture (a.k.a. the-thesis-that-must-not-be-named), somehow managed to trigger my chest pain, which I know comes from an increasing angst that at some point becomes unmanageable for me. It started a couple of hours ago and it kept growing and growing, and since I’m not up to spend one of those nights, I had to resort to my special cry-baby medicine, only to be used in some cases…and tonight I guess this little episode qualifies.

While I waited for the meds to kick in I turned on my ipod and the random mode gave me a gift to help me relax, and I wanted to share this beautiful song because it describes very accurately what I feel when this anxiety attacks me. I had to translate ’cause it’s in Spanish but I think I did an ok job. Here you go:

Under my tongue are hidden the words

That reveal all about me

They could tell you about my insecurities

How small I can sometimes feel

But I do everything to stop them

It is too soon to tell

Everything I want slips right through my fingers

That’s what I didn’t want to admit

Everything I want slips right through my fingers

And I don’t know how to handle what I’m starting to feel

Under my tongue all my fears will remain hidden

To everything I don’t know about you

Dangerous and precise words that try

Everything they want to define

But I do all I can to stop them

It is too soon to tell

Everything I want slips right through my fingers

That’s what I didn’t want to admit

Everything I want slips right through my fingers

And I don’t know how to handle what I’m starting to feel