Wednesday, July 4, 2012
I may have gone too far...
Sometimes I panic. A lot. That's not meant to be contradictory, it doesn't mean that sometimes I often panic or anything, it means that sometimes I panic in large volumes. This isn't something that I know how to handle and I'm going to attempt to explain what happens in my crazy, cracked brain.
I can handle little things and I can handle big things. When there are excesses of things to worry about, though, I can't focus my attention. I worry about all of the things simultaneously and I can't pick through what's happening. My heart begins to race and I can't function properly. I over-analyze just about everything that's happening and everything anyone does affects me personally regardless of intent.
This is not who I am. This is not how I like to act.
In the course of the last week or so, I've been dealing with a massive amount of "little things". Not insignificant things, but things that aren't big issues yet. My parents have stuff they're dealing with and I feel guilty (no reason why I SHOULD feel guilty, but I do). My roommate is moving away soon and he's spending time with some of his co-workers before he leaves. I have been thinking a lot about writing professionally and how I'm not doing it yet so I went to school to talk to career advisers.
And the thing that's been effecting me the most is that one of my best friends is hanging out with a new group of people. She's a fantastic young woman with a bright future. I miss her, and I need somebody around. She's spending time with them and not me. This is the most childish of my "little things" and its the thing that I most want to let go of. I'm not mad at her for spending time with other people, I'm upset that she isn't here sitting with me while I'm upset (that doesn't even make sense and it's true).
The way it works is like this: Each issue feels like a weight on my shoulders. Each issue presses down on me and squeezes my head. If you've ever been stressed out over a test, it's like that but heavier. It's also like when you're startled, just the apex of it when you feel lightheaded, only it lasts for days instead of milli-seconds. I feel confined in my own skin. My heart races and I sweat like I've been running a few miles. I take deep breaths and try to settle down and find my mind only going to the negative aspects of things that are happening. The more negative I feel, the heavier the weight, the faster my heart pumps, the more I sweat, until I feel sick.
The 4th of July is the one Holiday where I feel like a fool. Fireworks make me nervous. While I was asleep last night, I was jerked from sleep by loud explosions and cackles. My heart was racing and I called my friend (who is usually awake til all hours anyway). She answered and explained to me that she was hanging out with her group of friends. With the fireworks putting me on edge and me slipping into worrying about all of the little things, and my jealously that she was with them and not me (I recognize this is bad and it's the whole reason I'm writing this), I overreacted. I texted her a flurry of accusatory things that I had no right to say. She understands that I'm having some anxiety issues, but I over-stepped. I went too far and I offended one of my best friends in the world. My guilt over this is the heaviest weight I've had to deal with this last week and now I need it to stop.
I will be digging up a copy of my DD214 so I can go to the V.A. Hospital to get treated for possible PTSD. This is another layer. It freaks me out that I'm a little bit "crazy". I really need help and support from my friends and family. With the way I've been feeling lately (whether it's true or not) is that many people don't really care about me right now. I know I'm loved by many people, but I'm not feeling it. I feel isolated and alone (similar words but I think they're different enough to work) and all I'm looking for is a sympathetic shoulder from time to time. Just a "it's gonna be alright" or "I'm sorry" or just someone to listen.
I've been focusing on my own issues, I've been panicking over my panic attacks, I've been selfish and rude and unwilling to listen to others. This is me saying that I need help. This is me saying that I don't want to be this way. This is me saying that I can't do this by myself and I'm scared.
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2 comments:
Finally. Finally you are ready to get the help we have asked you to get. I love you, you're my son. We have your military stuff in the living room, thanks to Becky. We'll find your documents, scan them and email them to you. I am praying right now that someone comes to your door to be by your side during this, your least-favorite holiday. I love you!! Now, get on Skype!
I know very nearly how you feel. The sense of overwhelming loneliness and anger, that when you examine comes back to rest on your self, "I have no right to these feelings," or (in my case especially), "I have no one to blame but myself."
Realizations which do nothing to alleviate the problem and in fact just cause them to dig deeper in, layering resentment and isolation on top of frustration and anger.
That's the result of life without a pressure valve. Ideas and feelings recur back on them selves feeding on their own negative impulse.
I wish I could offer an account of how this is supposed to work out, but in a world where I myself must realize simultaneously every poor decision I've made and live with the consequences, consequences that they themselves keep me from being able to properly address and deal with them, I may be of little use.
My best advice, and it's a shot in the dark, is to seek counseling. You are not crazy, (wherein crazy means being sub-functionally impaired) you are just at an impasse and being alone in your room will only make it worse.
When we seek our own reflections in our own minds (self-reflection) we see our short comings and deformities interpreted through and amplified by those very same short comings. This has the effect of multiplying exponentially the negative effect of very small problems. As a devout introvert this is a very difficult truth to realize but we are not reliable judges of our own value, health or sickness. One must allow someone to look in and, untainted by personal investment, assess these difficult issues.
I have never previously had an ounce of faith in the psychiatric establishment. Therapy always seemed like a sort of a-physical prostitution, "...sit still so I can pay you to listen to my problems." It always struck me as kind of sordid and grotesque. But I can certainly begin to see, in a world where one's mind has begun to sabotage its self how an exterior set of eyes and even just someone to explain all this to would be of enormous benefit.
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