Two more.

So, I had two more of those little episodes last night, and I’m really starting to lose my patience with them. I’m stressed, I get it. Quit fucking with me and let me deal with the bloody stress, kapeesh?  They’re basically just making everything worse. It sucks because I stop breathing for just a little bit, but it freaks me out to no end when I can’t breathe, and of course, if it keeps happening someone’s going to make me go back to the stupid hospital, or to the clinic.  I don’t really want to, because doctors only do one of two things.
1) Give me stupid medication that fucks me up even worse.
2) Do absolutely nothing, tell me I’m fine, and basically waste my time.

So, I admitted to both myself, and my boyfriend the reason why I hate myself so much. You know, my lovely manipulative nature that I mentioned in a previous post? It pretty much eats at me, knowing that’s what I’m doing to people, and being fully aware of it as I’m doing it. But at the same time I’ll start thinking people won’t care about me anymore if I’m “better” or “normal”.

That’s a lovely cycle. Depression -> manipulation -> guilt -> punishing myself -> depression -> repeat until I’m able to break the cycle.

See, the worst part of it all, is that I’m very aware of everything, but I can’t seem to make myself get past it. Maybe I just don’t want to get past it. I’m not entirely sure.

Bleh, it’s early. I’ll probably write something else later.

Two posts in one day?

Well, aren’t I lame. Another post in the same day.

I had a panic attack (or something that resembled it, at least) this morning in the shower. Whatever they are, they’re getting worse. Which is kind of funny, because I went to the ER one night (I don’t have an actual doctor up here yet, since I moved) and the doctor told me that he thought I could control the attacks and that I’d be fine or whatever.  Oh well.
But yeah. I guess I’m getting ahead of myself.
Last night I had one just… hit me, pretty much out of no where. I mean, before it happened I was just lying in bed, joking around with my boyfriend. Of course, as per usual, I had some thoughts swirling around in my head that might make a person stressed out. But still, it still felt like it came out of no where for no purpose. And it SUCKED.
Usually when I’d have them, they’d only last for a couple of minutes tops, but this one seemed to drag on and on forever. My chest felt more compressed than usual, and I actually wasn’t able to breathe for a bit, like I felt like I was choking and couldn’t catch a breath.
Most of the same thing happened this morning in the shower. I’m actually quite glad that I had let my boyfriend convince me to take a shower with him (sidenote: what is it with guys and wanting company in the shower, anyway? ), because if I hadn’t then I might have slipped and smacked my head on something. That would have been lovely, wouldn’t it? But when I was in the shower, I just… couldn’t breath. I kept trying and trying to catch my breath and I couldn’t. I wasn’t even hyperventilating or whatever, I just… couldn’t breath. It felt like there was too much pressure on my chest. It only lasted like 30 seconds or so. Maybe a minute. It felt like so much longer, but yeah. It sucked.

Of course, if I went to the hospital in that case, they’d have to do something about this, and not just tell me that there’s nothing really wrong that I can’t fix myself. I mean, I’m sure that there are things I can do to fix all of this junk going on, but it would have been nice to have been handed a manual or something, because these attacks are getting on my nerves.

Unless it’s not a panic attack at all, and I’m really just slowly dying or something. Who knows right?

Bleh, I hate doctors, anyway.