Monday, July 13, 2015


I think I have had my first ever panic attack. It has been building to that point for a few days now. Maybe even longer, but definitely the last few days.

I started by walking up to a wall, and putting my head up against it. Then I started walking, pacing in a pattern from my room to the hall, and back again in an oval. Then I started to feel like I was losing it, and started to cry. My breath became very shallow.

I wondered if what I was feeling was a panic attack. I looked up online what defines one. It seemed like it fit.

I didn't know what to do with myself. I really felt like I was losing it. I called Jean, the shaman I have worked with, and she started to talk me down from the state I was in.

What set me off? Just about everything. I am incredibly overwhelmed. I am tired. I do not feel well. I have a number of issues I need to deal with. I am losing a lot of hair.

I really can't even begin to explain what I am dealing with/am having to face. I don't even want to. Even if I did, there would be those who would minimize and contort it. I am just not going there. At least beyond where I have already been.

My life is not open for judgment and debate, despite how anyone acts or any commentary they may feel inclined to run as a soundtrack to what they perceive about my life and circumstances.

I am really having a hard time functioning. I have had thoughts about what "ending it all" might look like. I am not going to do anything in that regard, but my thoughts are not free of anything morbid.

I have so much to deal with on my own. If I was healthy, it might feel different. But if I was healthy, there is a lot of what I have to deal with that would not be an issue. 

Managing a life with an illness is insane. How can you handle things when you can't? But you HAVE to? It is crucial that things get handled, but incredibly difficult.

It is times like this it would seem it might be better to come to the end sooner, tather than later. Thoughts like this scare me. I am not really wanting an end because it is somehow more "convenient." At the same time, times like this take everything I have. And, quite frankly, I am not really sure just how much is left.

There are just so many damn issues. I really wish I knew what to do. I have often expressed what people could do to help. Many of those things do not even involve money, but they still aren't done. 

I have asked for money, even "just" $1, only to have others decide that it doesn't mean anything. They decide it is not enough. They decide all kinds of things, except to give the kind of help that could really make a difference.

Much of my stress is financial. I know it is a dirty word. But it is the truth of my situation. And I had to stop talking about it because no one wanted to hear about it, and it was getting me no where - except feeling ignored and frustrated.

So I pulled back, and I stopped. Did my need stop? Nope. It is just as great as it has ever been. But I no longer know how to address my plea to not only be heard with the eyes and ears of others, but in their actions.

What is happening in my world is scaring me in more ways than one.

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