Maybe It's Not So Bad

Today was my appointment with the therapist. It was actually pretty alright. I was definitely a little anxious while I was there, but it went pretty well. I don't think she thinks that there's really much wrong with me. I don't know if I conveyed my issue as well as I maybe could have, because to me it seems like a pretty big problem. After we talked for about forty-five minutes she told me that she could teach me some techniques for staying calm and to reduce the fear of anxiety attacks. I think she may have focused a little too much on the actual attacks (of which I have only had three or four of in my life) and not enough on the day to day anxieties I feel. She also told me to go get a physical and blood-work done just to get checked out. She also told me she could help me with my relationship issues since I told her about my last relationship which made her see that I am drawn to the wrong type of person. Not much to do with my anxiety but I guess it is still a pretty big problem itself and getting help for that along with my anxiety is not a bad idea. I'm sure my mom would be happy if I never brought home another Donald. Right, Ma? :) She asked a lot of questions that brought up a lot of stuff I had never even thought  of that may be connected to what is going on with me. She also informed me that my fear of becoming my grandmother is far from something I should be concerned with, which is good news. After I left her office I was thinking back on everything that was said and all the questions she asked and I thought of a few things I had forgotten or not gotten to say while I was there. I wrote them down for next time and I think I will also print out pieces of this blog to show her so that she may better understand what I am trying to say. I write better than I talk, so maybe reading this will be more helpful than just talking to me. We'll see. Anyway, it's late and I'm tired and I have to work in the morning so I will be going now. Night.

I know it's been a while. That's because not much has really happened since my last post, just a lot of the same. But, I wanted to catch you all up on the little bit that did happen so I'm here typing out this probably very short post. Sorry bout that. So, my mom read my blog a couple weeks ago, basically right before I stopped posting, which may be one possible reason why I stopped. Anyway, she read it and thinks I need to see a counselor. So, May 25, 2011 I have an appointment with Dr. Fernbach. She specializes in my kind of stuff. I really hope it helps. I'm kind of not so keen on therapists because I really don't know how to be in therapy... I'm afraid of the judgement. She won't show it because it's her job not to, but I'm sure she'll be thinking it... I guess it's okay because she deals with people like me all the time, right? I guess we'll see how it goes. I'll keep you updated. Other then that, it's just been a lot of the same old stuff. Not a lot of pains, but definitely a lot of anxiety, especially at night. Last night was pretty bad, and then today I had a doctor's appointment (I have a bulging ear drum) and I just felt very anxious the whole time, like something really bad was going to happen. Nothing did, though... I don't know where those feelings come from. They're actually kind of new. I always had, what the doctors call, anxiety, I guess, but I never really had these scared feelings as much as I do now... Anyway, I feel like I'm just rambling about nothing, so I think I will sign off and hopefully have something more interesting to type about next time. Peace.

My Own Personal Movie

I was in Wawa tonight with my friend Nick and this random guy walks in, throws his hands in the air, and yells: "Did you hear the news?" ...We all stared for a few seconds, then, "Osama Bin Laden is dead!" he yelled, with a giant grin on his face. That moment was insane. It did not feel real. I could not believe, first of all what he had said, and secondly, why he was so happy. In an instant I was overcome with sadness at the same news that had made this man so ecstatic. Nick noticed that my demeanor had changed and questioned it. I got a little heated trying to explain to him why I was upset. A man is dead, and people are happy. That just does not seem right to me. For another thing, there is a very big possibility that Osama is in hell. That's not a reason to be happy, that's not a reason to celebrate. When I got home I went on Facebook and there were status' all over the page of celebration at this man's death. What is wrong with humankind that we want to "go out and toast" a man's death?

I know that my blog is not supposed to be political or religious, but this was a big moment in history and a great realization in my life. I thought it was important enough to record my thoughts on the matter. And anyway, seeing as I am the only person I know who gets sad when "bad people" die, ie. Saddam Hussein, Osama Bin Ladin, and anyone who's ever gotten the death penalty, it does make sense to blog about it here. I am all alone in my thought process and I just can't understand how anyone else could think differently about the matter.

Also, there is one key statement in this post that makes it okay to include it in this blog: "It did not feel real". That was not just some exaggeration of the moment. As I was standing there in that Wawa, listening to this crazy man yell about death, I legitimately lost my sense of reality. I've heard of this before and I think I've come close to it before, especially the past few days. You know that I've been having trouble getting myself to go to sleep at night because I'm afraid. So, I've been keeping myself awake until my eyes can't possibly stay open anymore. Every night that I do this, I wake up at some point completely disoriented. Last night I fell asleep on the couch while watching television with Nick. He tried to wake me up a few times and I wouldn't budge. Then when he finally did wake me up I was so out of it I didn't even know what was going on or what I was doing. It felt like a dream. Then this Wawa moment happened, and since then I've had three more moments of "unreality". They weren't special in any way except that it just didn't feel real. It's really hard to explain it, so I really hope you understand. It's like watching a movie in the theatre. You're just sitting there watching it, except you also can't feel anything, and what you do feel doesn't feel real. I hope I'm not making this more confusing. Anyway, I feel like this might be my next new thing. I'm not adding it to the list just yet, but I am going to keep an eye on it.

Also, quick update, other than the trouble sleeping, the always present paranoia, and this new "unreality" thing I have been doing pretty well. Not too many strange physical pains. Of course there's always some. But it has really slowed down. Finger's crossed that it stays that way. X

I'm still here...

I have been alive for almost twenty-two years now, and after all that time my heart still beats on cue. My lungs still pump the air when I tell them to, and even when I don't. My brain function has continued without fail. I've never had any major health problems, no hiccups in my mainframe. But how is that possible? How can they still be working? The better question is why? Why am I still here? I don't feel like I am doing anything that makes me worth keeping alive. So why am I? I don't want to be here anymore, but I also don't want to die. Not that it's up to me... I just can't help but wonder, with every step I take, every breath I breathe, and every beat of my heart, when will it end?

Disorientation

Two nights in a row I have woken up, in the middle of the night, feeling disoriented. I had no idea what was going on or even where I was for quite a few minutes. It was not a feeling I liked very much, and yet I kind of did... I don't know how to explain it. I think, maybe, it's a little like what other people feel when they get high? It's like you're so out of control and lost. It doesn't sound like a good feeling, and at the time it was a bit scary, but thinking back on it makes me kind of want to feel it again. Somehow it's like a comfort...

I have also been feeling sick the past couple of days. I haven't been sick in probably a year. It's not bad, I just have some sinus headaches and a sore throat, but I'm so scared right now that it's something else in disguise. When Brittany Murphy died, she had been feeling sick for a few days before she had a heart attack in the shower. Also, I know that women's heart problems show differently than men's. When a woman is having a heart attack it usually feels more like stomach problems and she may not even know that she is having one. As I am writing this I am sort of freaking out a little because I really don't feel right. My head feels off and my heart rate is definitely up. I'm scared.

Sleep Who?

For the past weekish, I have been having trouble going to sleep. Tonight is no different. The reason is, I'm afraid to. I keep having these bad feelings that something is going to happen to me if I fall asleep. I feel like if I sleep I might die in my sleep and never have another chance to make everything in my life right. I keep telling myself that I can die being awake too so it really doesn't matter. But I still am afraid of falling asleep. I get so tired every night waiting for myself to just give up and give in to sleep. Sometimes I can't fall asleep until like five am. For me, that is crazy late to stay up. I used to go to sleep around nine or ten, eleven was pushing it. Tonight is a particularly bad night because my fear won't subside even for a second. I was texting a friend to try and keep my mind off of it, but now he has gone to sleep and I am left all alone in the dark, afraid to sleep, to look outside, to be alone... I can't keep living like this. Something's gotta give, right? If this gets any worse, I will never sleep again... I don't know what to do.

Backtracking

So, I've made three posts so far and have yet to tell you all where this all started. To be honest, I'm not completely sure. I'm not a doctor or psychiatrist/psychologist. But I do know when it started and how it has progressed.
I remember my very first anxiety attack. That day I had gone to visit my grandmother at her nursing home with my father and great aunt. I'd visited her there for years but over that time she had gotten progressively worse. She, herself had schizophrenia and some other major problems that made her sort of check out. Anyway, this time was different because, as I stood by the window, I watched my father sit by my grandmother's bedside, holding her hand, and crying. It was like something out of a dramatic television show. Watching it made me cry because I hate to see my parents sad.
A few hours later, at my great aunts house, I started to get these shooting pains in my left arm and a tightness in my chest. At first I tried to ignore it but it kept coming. I started walking around the room trying to calm myself down. I started to get really hot and had some trouble breathing. I went to the window to try to breathe in some colder air but it didn't help.
Finally, I decided it was time to ask for help. I went downstairs, where my dad was on the phone. I told him what was happening an he told me that if we went to the hospital they would have to take blood. At this point in my life I was terrified of needles, especially ones that stay in for too long, so I said never-mind and went back upstairs to try to forget about it. After a few more minutes of not succeeding at this I decided I needed to go to the hospital after all. My dad took me and called my mom on the way.
When we got there we had to wait in the emergency room for about half an hour. Let me just take a moment to comment on how Ridiculous waiting in an EMERGENCY room is... really??... Anyway, while I was sitting there waiting to get inspected, my brain told me that I couldn't breathe. I started freaking out and told my mom repeatedly that I couldn't breathe. She reminded me that if I could talk to tell her that then I could, in face, breathe... Yea... Then, you know that tunnel vision thing where the black starts coming in around you? That happened and I thought I was going to pass out, until I got sick on the floor in front of me. Then everything came back and I felt better.
I had to get chest ex-rays but they turned out fine. The doctor told me I had had an anxiety attack and that it was probably a result of too much caffeine, but that didn't make any sense to me. I had had at least two Pepsi's a day for probably two or three years before that day. I don't drink (or eat) anything with caffeine anymore, by the way, and I Still get anxiety every day. Sorry Doc.
So, that's where this all started, and now it is just something I deal with on the daily. I've been to the hospital a few times since then and every time they tell me it's just anxiety. I got prescribed Xanax once. I didn't take it right away because I don't like drugs (that's a whole other story). One day I was feeling extra anxious and decided to try it. Now I know how it works, I wasn't anxious the whole day!! Because.... I was Asleep the whole day... Who wants to live like that? Not me, I'd rather be awake and anxious then asleep for the rest of my life. Anyway, I never took them again. I don't even know where they are anymore...
Now you know. Next post will either be something that happens to me or else I'll tell you the drug story...
Signing off.