Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Panic

An eighteen day lapse and here I sit once again trying to find something to quiet my mind and body. This could have been avoided tonight, but could have means shit when I'm this deep in it. My face feels like its on fire and then going numb...and my head and heart are pounding. I can't sleep because I keep getting sharp pains in my arm and my hands and toes are twitching. Everytime I get close to sleep I feel like I've stopped breathing and wake with a jerk. But mostly it's my head right now. It's stress. It's anxiety. It's the feeling of helplessness and hopelessness. This will never end. I will never be able to stop it. No one can fix it. And no one can help. I have to accept that.

Just like I have to accept that the things you don't want to change eventually will, and the things you do want to change will always remain the same.

Looking to other people for what you need is pointless. Even if they give you what you ask for they will never give you what you need. Only you have the power to do that.

A lot of realizations have erupted during tonight's panic attack. What to do with them is still a mystery. But I'm ready. Ready to move on. To accept the things I can not change...to accept what is. I'm ready for something new. A distraction to take my mind off the pounding in my head. A numbing to keep me from feeling "too" much.

Im not sure why I feel the need to communicate how I feel but I do, and this has proven to be the safest place to do that. Looking for understanding in others often leads to disappointment. Here, no one needs to understand.

I'm ready. Ready to stop struggling to communicate. Ready to do more for me. Ready to let go of the pain in my head. Long term effects? Fuck em. The long term effects of living this way will surely kill me sooner than any medication.

Hope, who is lowering her expectations of herself as well as everyone else.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

You've got a friend...

That used to be one of my favorite songs. I spent a whole decade pumping myself full of James Taylor. A guy I barely knew send me lyrics to that song once. Hand written via snail mail. I thought it was a really big deal at the time. Maybe it was. Maybe I should have taken him up on his offer because in this day and age friends are hard to come by.

"When you're down and troubled and you need a helping hand and nothing... Oh nothing is going right..." well, I usually just grab a beer. Because lets be honest...who the fuck am I gonna call? Me? Who in their right mind wants to hear my bullshit. I don't even want to hear my bullshit. And it hurts too damn much to poor your heart and soul out and get only silence in return.

So fuck it. I blog. And I drink. Not necessarily in that order. Fuck the past. Fuck the present. And fuck the god damn future that may or may not decide to rear its ugly head. Fuck exes. Fuck their fucking bullshit. Fuck the fact that I'm only ever going to be the silent partner. Fuck people who can't listen. Fuck em harder when they listen but can't hear. Fuck everyone always taking and never being willing to give. Fuck meeting everyone else's needs and continually ignoring your own. Fuckitall. How's that for honesty?

"Just close your eyes and think of me and you know that I'll be there to brighten up even your darkest nights."

Bullshit. It's pretty fucking dark tonight and even after asking ( yeah, asking for christ sakes) for exactly what I needed I'm still sitting here. Alone. In the dark. I don't ask for much. I really don't. Or at least I don't think I do. I hate asking. It makes me feel weak. But when I get to the point where I have to it's serious. It's out of need not desire. And never in my life have I ever asked for anything unreasonable. But i swear to Christ nine times out of ten when I ask I get shit.

Fuck that as well, seeing how I'm on a roll. I rarely deny anyone anything they ask for. That, I know, is a flaw. I'm sure it stems from the whole alcoholic mother thing, and wanting to please, and fix and be loved and blah blah fucking blah. I'm sick of it. So essentially I'm sick of who I am.

Or perhaps tonight I'm sick of everything.

"...people can be so cold. They'll hurt you and desert you. Oh they'll take your soul if you let them. Oh yeah, but don't you let them. "

Like that's an actual choice we get to make. But hey...

"ain't it good to know... you've got a friend?"