I used to have panic attacks. I’ve had them since I was a child, almost 20 years. They went away for a long time but recently have started to appear at night, when I’m sleeping. I’ve never had that before. Last night I had one of the most powerful ones I’ve ever had. I wake up suddenly, in a cold sweat. I feel like all the blood is draining out of my face and I’m going to pass out, but I’m already laying down. I’m shaking, every cell in my body is screaming at me to run for my life. I try to get up but panic takes over your mind so its hard to tell what I’m gonna do about it. I practice observing it, seeing where I feel the panic. I feel disoriented and I feel cold trickles trickling down my neck. I don’t have enough power to move my arms right. My mind is screaming “I can’t do this, I can’t do this” I can’t recall seeing anything. Its just sheer panic and terror. I lay down in child’s pose on the bathroom floor but with my arms tucked in. I don’t know what the plan is. Then, as suddenly as it started, it subsides. I’m exhausted. I can’t process what is happening or what I should do. I make my way to bed because I’m so tired. I pull the blankets over my head and I’m exhausted and back in a dreamless sleep before I know it.
ever feeling sad for no reason?
I had been in my lowest point of my 20 years of life. It was ugly. The drowning feeling that I can’t seem to get out from, it’s ugly. I didn’t know if i would ever get through it. But I did. For some reason, things have been working out for me. A boyfriend, loving family, caring friends. No I’m not bragging. But who knows, Eh? The drowning and suffocating feeling never goes away. Suicidal thought, the urge to just cry buckets and buckets, the heaviness to step outside. Still as intense as ever. Just like when the problems that cause my sadness was still unsolved. So now, I feel pain and sunken feeling from just nothing. I don’t know why.
Has anybody else ever felt forgotten, by over half the people you consider important in your life?
I know that im not alone, and that I do have a number of people who care about me and that are by my side, but the numbers are getting lower. I see things, like what theyre doing, family events, get togethers, etc. and I never got any news about any of it.. Its like im a distant memory in their heads that will soon be forgotten.. If I died, how many people would truly notice without having to see it online? And honestly, that question just makes things so much worse because, day after day I ask myself that, and I still havent came up with a single answer..
This tattoo started out as a #semicolonproject heart. It ended up showing my oldest son (red,) and me in purple being diagnosed with post-partum depression, anxiety and eventually bipolar disorder. There were at least 7 attempts made between 1995 and 2009. The last attempt was right before my twins (blue and green) were born. I haven’t had any suicidal ideation since my boys were born. The depression has tried its best but I can always pull myself out of the darkness before it gets bad. Sadly, my exhusband/twins’ dad couldn’t find his way out. He committed suicide just a few days after the boys turned 6. The next month I added the period in his memory. Some people have misunderstood. For me, it isn’t just for the end of his life. It stands for the end of suicide in my family. I will not let suicide ever be an option again. Once my boys are older, I will explain to them how hard I worked to keep away from the final decision. How their dad just couldn’t get far enough way before it caught him. The latest addition is the kite being held down by the anchor. This signifies my bipolar diagnosis. My faith and my boys keep me grounded, I don’t get too high or too low. God is taking care of my little family and my little boys are keeping me from slipping away.
I blog at http://cocoandtwins.com and I share the struggles and the joys of parenting while crazy. Single momtherhood is no joke. Add in hyperactive twin boys to my own cocktail of crazy and you get a lot of material to write about.
So my heart was broken, like many people. Since one year i stay in my world, being depressed, being strong, breaking in tears, being sexy, rebuilding a new world… Then i found him… From all the man who turn around, i choose him… I gave him a chance to prove me that life was no more chaos… I thought he would bring happiness, but my heart is still aching ❌
A while back a really good friend of mine turned on me. Before that night I had never cut, although I had started to take a razor apart. A lot had happened before that night, things that built up and I guess my “friend” just pushed me over. It was late at night. I went to the bathroom and took out the blades. I didn’t cut deep, in fear it might hurt more than cutting shallow would. There wasn’t much blood but I was terrified. I didn’t know what I had done. I went back and told my “friend” what had happened. He basically said “Well it isn’t cutting without blood and suffering. You know this is how I avoid self harm; I drive others to it.” At that point I didn’t care what he said before I cut, I cared that he didn’t care. That hurt more than anything. I kept quiet and didn’t tell anyone, although some of his friends found out. The reason I didn’t tell my mom or a friend is because I didn’t want them finding out about what I had done. One of the girls who found out about it told the councilor who called me in one day. I was shaking and had trouble breathing. My first panic attack took place on that day. They’ve been getting worse lately. The councilor called my parents and then I had to talk about it. Apparently both my parents were cutters and my dad’s side of the family has a long history of depression. I have that to look forward to. I still cut and I still don’t tell, even though I promised I would. I don’t eat and my panic attacks are unbearable. Everyone who tries to help me I shut out or they realize I’m not worth it. Someone help. I want to stop cutting but it’s also very comforting in a really strange way. It’s the only way I’m coping with depression, anxiety, and reality. Help.
Where are the breaks in life?
I go to school & get bullied. I come home & it’s like world war 2. So I go to my room. Family complains I’m in my room too much. So I come out, where I’m told repeatedly how I’m so worthless & how big of a piece of shit I am. So I go back to my room. Where I’m alone with my thoughts from the past, & worrying about the future I will never have. Everybody tells me “it could be worse” but right now, this is my worst. I have never felt so alone or broken or depressed in my life. Right now, I can’t imagine anything getting worse for me. & I know I probably just jinxed myself by saying that. But please. Do not tell me that you think it could be worse. Because you do not know how my mind processes things, how I deal with things, or what my past is. The only thing you know about me is what I tell you.
so please, words of advice? How do I make things better?
I have never been fired before. Sure it’s silly, you’re probably thinking “everyone has been fired at some point.” But I truly never have, until yesterday. I was told it was due to budget cuts and that once work picked back up I was more than welcome to reapply. And as I sat there, trying to piece together what had just taken place, I started to think about the girl who always shows up late, has a bit of a drinking problem. I started to think of my coworker who comes to work and then naps under their desk. I thought of all my coworkers, and wondered what made me the unlucky one. But then it hit me, they need that job. I can go find something else, somewhere that appreciates me being 15 minutes early every day, and staying late until my job is done. I’ll find somewhere where my coworkers work just as hard as I do.
So while I have never been fired, I realize that it’s not always a burden, sometimes it’s a blessing.
I was sitting in a cafe at 7:30am yesterday when two middle-aged police officers (male and female) sat down for an end of shift breakfast. I could see the weariness in their eyes as they tried to decompress after another long night dealing with confrontation and hoping that this wouldn’t be the night that their loved ones would get ‘The call’.
I was eating alone and as I paid my check I discreetly asked for theirs to be added to mine… I hope that it gave them a few minutes of warm fuzzies because as I slipped away anonymously, I knew it would make me feel good all day.
I drink every day. I want to stop.
On good days (bad days) I’ve been able to not drink for 24 to 48 hours. The existential dread is very real on good days. It creeps in. The anxiety doesn’t leave me alone. You’re judging me. She hates me because I’m an asshole. He’s not my friend anymore because I apparently treat people like shit. I don’t want to treat people like shit, it’s just that my shadow sneaks up and takes over for me. It’s almost like I can’t see my shadow when it’s doing its best work, sabotage.
That’s not the point. I can’t stop drinking. Maybe if my life was perfectly balanced and I did yoga every day I wouldn’t feel the need to numb out with ETOH because of all this existential dread. Yeah, yoga will fix that……
life is tough. Everybody is hurt. Maybe we are all living our badtrip. Maybe happiness is found in chaos. When everything is falling apart, when tears are falling down, when we are at our very worst, at the very moment we ask ourselves why we exist, maybe happiness is the question. Maybe happiness is not the answer. Sometimes some things are inevitable. But it’s all about maybe’s. Fall in love with your flaws, with the chaos of your life, with the inappropriate thoughts, just fall in love with the imperfections.. Maybe then you would find the question to happiness.
When I was in my early twenties I had a relationship with my supervisor. He was older and someone that I looked up to. I was a secret, and let myself be for 6 months. I was also not the only other woman he was with. It took a long time to heal. I felt used and taken advantage of, and I still feel some of the effects to this day.
I have friends, they all say they “care about me”, but I never feel like they do. If I say I’m sad, they won’t ask why. If I try to speak my opinion or ask for advice they won’t listen. Sometimes they do, but I just feel like they never care. I can’t help get this feeling out of my head, and I hate it.