Dawn's Digression.
Sunday, August 17, 2003
Man, I've had a week. Indeed, I have. Not all bad, but a week, anyway.
First of all, I saw a kickass movie. Dangerous Beauty. I haven't seen a movie this good since The Hours. It's so good, I don't want to send it back to Netflix. And I looked for it at Target today. Run, don't walk to rent this movie.
I had an anxiety attack the other day. I haven't had one in a long time. Can't even remember when I last had one, although I have had several panic attacks in my day. I woke up around 5am. I was breathing hard. My heart was racing. I was cold. I was hungry, but my stomach hurt, and I felt like I was shaking all over. I asked Michele if I was shaking and she said I wasn't, but I felt like my insides were swirling. I've never had that exact experience before. Then, my right hand fell asleep for like three hours. At about 11am, I started having chest pains. I took Xanax, and things were okay. But as a result, I have a Dr. appointment tomorrow. I felt very dramatic. When it was happening at 5am, I was talking to Granny, I was asking her what to do. All I knew is that my heart was jumping out of my chest. I was better at work. I was still anxiety-ridden, but mostly okay. Unless you count crying for no reason. That sucked.
I didn't recognize it as an anxiety attack until my mom said, "It's been awhile since you had one of those." And I was all, "Oh, um...yeah." I think I now recognize some panic attacks. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night panting and scared to death...paranoid. Afraid someone is trying to come in or watching... I had one when I was in high school. It is really a lot to type. But I was convinced someone was trying to kill me. I slept under my bed that night, and the next day, cried through my first two classes. I was looking at all the kids in the hall as if they were suspects. They sent me home. Mom told me it was hormones. That was the worst I ever had. But Thursday was the worst physical experience I ever had.
I think the Doctor will try to give me something. And I think I will take it. And I'm not sure how much choice I'm going to give Michele. I've started freaking out in other ways, too. For any of you who may fear I'm losing myself, don't worry about it. I've found me. I'm still here, and I'm mean as HELL. I'm feeling very aggresive. And moody. And this is what I can't control.
Rachel came over this weekend. Something pretty close to what she said: You are freaking out. Get something and take it.
I'm sorry, but Rachie knows me best. I'm going with her advice. I know myself, and I agree with her. I have to do something before I destroy what I have. I'm having a hard time going to work...and when I'm there, I don't work. At all, really. I have no idea what I do, but it isn't work.
I think I'm being dramatic here, but let's face it. I have stress. I'm up to my eyeballs in shit. I can't do everything. I'm so frustrated. I have a short fuse, and Michele is getting the brunt of it. I don't feel anything anymore. Okay, I do. What I mean is that I don't feel love anymore. I feel grateful sometimes, but love is different from grateful.
I don't have anything to give anymore. I am sick and fucking tired of thinking about other people. Even last night when I was writing in my journal for the first time in a couple of months, I was distracted by thoughts of my mother and what I should have said to her and didn't. I don't want to think about others. I can't. I don't want to do things for Michele. I can't. Who is going to take care of me? WHO? Because I can't find that person. I know who it has to be. And she doesn't have the energy either, because she is going through as much as I am, if not more. But I just can't. I should have been there for Michele on Saturday morning when she was having flight anxiety, and instead I attacked. I attacked someone who had anxiety I understood. It's awful. I felt so guilty. But at the same time, so tired. She is used to me providing things I can no longer provide. I just don't have it to give.
Besides, that my weekend has rocked. Mom spent the night Friday night. We watched lots of movies. Saturday, I took Mich to the airport, mowed the lawn, hung with Mom, and then Rachel came over. Rach and I went to eat, then I watched Dangerous Beauty. Today I got my hair cut and highlighted, went shopping, and watched Dangerous Beauty again. Then I grilled myself a steak and cleaned the mousy cage. And drank a bottle of wine.
First of all, I saw a kickass movie. Dangerous Beauty. I haven't seen a movie this good since The Hours. It's so good, I don't want to send it back to Netflix. And I looked for it at Target today. Run, don't walk to rent this movie.
I had an anxiety attack the other day. I haven't had one in a long time. Can't even remember when I last had one, although I have had several panic attacks in my day. I woke up around 5am. I was breathing hard. My heart was racing. I was cold. I was hungry, but my stomach hurt, and I felt like I was shaking all over. I asked Michele if I was shaking and she said I wasn't, but I felt like my insides were swirling. I've never had that exact experience before. Then, my right hand fell asleep for like three hours. At about 11am, I started having chest pains. I took Xanax, and things were okay. But as a result, I have a Dr. appointment tomorrow. I felt very dramatic. When it was happening at 5am, I was talking to Granny, I was asking her what to do. All I knew is that my heart was jumping out of my chest. I was better at work. I was still anxiety-ridden, but mostly okay. Unless you count crying for no reason. That sucked.
I didn't recognize it as an anxiety attack until my mom said, "It's been awhile since you had one of those." And I was all, "Oh, um...yeah." I think I now recognize some panic attacks. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night panting and scared to death...paranoid. Afraid someone is trying to come in or watching... I had one when I was in high school. It is really a lot to type. But I was convinced someone was trying to kill me. I slept under my bed that night, and the next day, cried through my first two classes. I was looking at all the kids in the hall as if they were suspects. They sent me home. Mom told me it was hormones. That was the worst I ever had. But Thursday was the worst physical experience I ever had.
I think the Doctor will try to give me something. And I think I will take it. And I'm not sure how much choice I'm going to give Michele. I've started freaking out in other ways, too. For any of you who may fear I'm losing myself, don't worry about it. I've found me. I'm still here, and I'm mean as HELL. I'm feeling very aggresive. And moody. And this is what I can't control.
Rachel came over this weekend. Something pretty close to what she said: You are freaking out. Get something and take it.
I'm sorry, but Rachie knows me best. I'm going with her advice. I know myself, and I agree with her. I have to do something before I destroy what I have. I'm having a hard time going to work...and when I'm there, I don't work. At all, really. I have no idea what I do, but it isn't work.
I think I'm being dramatic here, but let's face it. I have stress. I'm up to my eyeballs in shit. I can't do everything. I'm so frustrated. I have a short fuse, and Michele is getting the brunt of it. I don't feel anything anymore. Okay, I do. What I mean is that I don't feel love anymore. I feel grateful sometimes, but love is different from grateful.
I don't have anything to give anymore. I am sick and fucking tired of thinking about other people. Even last night when I was writing in my journal for the first time in a couple of months, I was distracted by thoughts of my mother and what I should have said to her and didn't. I don't want to think about others. I can't. I don't want to do things for Michele. I can't. Who is going to take care of me? WHO? Because I can't find that person. I know who it has to be. And she doesn't have the energy either, because she is going through as much as I am, if not more. But I just can't. I should have been there for Michele on Saturday morning when she was having flight anxiety, and instead I attacked. I attacked someone who had anxiety I understood. It's awful. I felt so guilty. But at the same time, so tired. She is used to me providing things I can no longer provide. I just don't have it to give.
Besides, that my weekend has rocked. Mom spent the night Friday night. We watched lots of movies. Saturday, I took Mich to the airport, mowed the lawn, hung with Mom, and then Rachel came over. Rach and I went to eat, then I watched Dangerous Beauty. Today I got my hair cut and highlighted, went shopping, and watched Dangerous Beauty again. Then I grilled myself a steak and cleaned the mousy cage. And drank a bottle of wine.
Dawn, 9:27 PM
