11:04 AM - Wednesday, Nov. 17, 2004
paranoia.. paranoia.. everybody's coming to get me.
I had the worst night of this year last night. I could not for the life of me fall asleep. I ended up taking a shower in hopes that it might make me drowsy enough to doze off, but no such luck. I was in a severely depressed mood. Where did it come from? I can't tell you.
Yesterday was an okay day. Like I said, I went to take a nap before Scott and Tom returned. My mom came over to type up some stuff on my computer before they got here. We decided to go see The Incredibles since everyone seemed to have time to do it yesterday. It was my nephew Joe's first movie adventure, and he was SO cute. He brought his Mr. Incredible McDonald's Happy Meal toy with him, and during the entire movie he kept looking through the seats in front of us. For a tiny bit, he climbed into my lap and rested back against me. The moment made me elated to be an aunt, and almost brought out the desire to be a mother in me.
After the movie was over, Scott and Tom and I went back to my house for a bit. We met my parents at Chipotle's for dinner... and then I came home to make sure I made it here in time to see One Tree Hill, which is drama in the making. They're fun to watch. The show is full of really good actors and actresses... but their timing is way off. Many of the past stuff just doesn't fit into a normal time frame for what they're doing in the present. They tend to jump around from one dramatic episode to the next without fully coming to a satisfying conclusion with the last. Yet... I'm still addicted. Sort of.
Once that was over Casey called me. We talked for a little bit about his new job and how busy his schedule has become. He sounded good though, and that's what I like to hear from my friends.
So when did the depression kick in? How about 24 hours ago? About 11 PM my heart began to beat so fast that I could literally see my chest moving where my hearts located. I thought to myself, "Oh shit. Here we go again. Another panic attack." They've been happening quite a bit lately, and I don't know why. I've never had them this severe before, and normally the prozac would help stop them before they took control of me. However, I have noticed that the prozac I'm taking is in a different pill form than the prozac I was taking. I wonder if that makes any difference at all.. the generic brand and all. I think it might. I'm going to have to ask my sister to put me back on the other generic brand because this brand isn't helping me at all.
Anyhow, that's when I decided I'd climb into the shower in hopes of calming myself down with the stream of water. I first called Cory. Once again, there was no answer. My mind hit the paranoid stage. "Is he avoiding me? Is he having sex with ten other women?" I sat under the stream of water and that's when the real panic attack hit. I couldn't control my breathing, I couldn't stop myself from crying... and worst of all, my finger nails dug into my thighs and upper arms as if the pressure would stop it from happening.. and now I have all these cuts all over myself.
When I climbed out of the shower, I thought to myself, "My god. You're psycho, you dumb stupid bitch." I stared at my naked body in the mirror for a long time, mostly concentrating on my face, wondering what in the world anyone would see. I wrapped toilet paper around my cuts to hopefully prevent them from bleeding too long, and I sat down on the toilet and rocked myself back and forth. My heart was still beating very fast and I kept crying. But this time I kept saying to myself, "I don't want to be like my great grandmother. I don't want to end up like her. I'm not her. I'm not her. I'm not her."
I crawled back into my bed about 1. I saw that Cory hadn't yet returned my calls. I called him again and said, "Please call me. I need you right now." And I know I went off on some spill where I said, "I hate you. I hate all men. I hate the fact that you aren't picking up your phone right now when I really need you." Etc. etc. etc. So if he is avoiding me, I don't blame him at all. I'd avoid me too. The sad thing is... I definitely need somebody - and that somebody's going to have to be a strong enough person to understand my panic attacks. They started after I was raped. They're less frequent now, but they still happen.
I got up and went over to my computer. I tried to play BeSpelled at msngames.com, but it wasn't helping me calm down at all. Eventually, I wore myself out and past out in bed. I woke up around 8 AM with a pounding headache that was so bad it made my teeth ache. I wonder if I slept those few hours with my jaw clenched together tightly or something.
I finally was able to fall back asleep until my dad called to see if I was going to use the Vermont vs. KU tickets. I hadn't heard back from Carrie yet on if she could get off work or not so I told my dad to go ahead and give them to Charlie, my old P.E. teacher. Ironically, Charlie had four tickets already and had posted on the internet that he needed two more (the number that I gave him). He was going to stay home while his wife Lori took the boys up to the game (their first KU game ever). His sister was diagnosed with lymphnode cancer and he wanted two extra tickets so he could take her to the game as well. We didn't know he had posted this on the internet at all. So when my dad called me back, he sounded as if he was crying - a good cry... the kind you get when you know somebody's wishes have come true. He told me how I had just granted somebody's wish, and that Charlie had called it Divine Intervention.
And here I was last night screaming up to God in my shower, "what in the hell am I here for? What is my purpose in life? Why do you put me through this?" And wishing upon wishing that I could just stop living because I don't know how many more of these panic attacks I can stand. Was this a sign? Is God trying to tell me something? Am I supposed to start going to church again in order to feel him inside of me more completely? My mother did say that I should become a nun on Monday. I told her no, but maybe I'm meant to become one. Shouldn't I know deep down that's what I'm meant to be if that's really what God has planned for me? I used to think I was meant to be a mother, but anymore... I can't imagine myself giving birth to children and raising them. I don't think I'm mature enough to be a mother. Or maybe that maturity comes along with having children and being forced to actually grow up?
Anyhow, I called Cory again this morning. I still haven't heard a word from him and I'm getting worried. I told him to call me, even if it's collect.. just to let me know he's okay. I mean, he could have been in a wreck. He could have lost his phone. There are all sorts of things that could be wrong, and I won't ever know until he contacts me. But if he's been in a wreck and he's lying in the hospital.. or worse off.. if he's dead.. I'll never know and that just FREAKS me the hell out.
Oh God. If only he'd call and leave a message on my voice mail saying, "Look, I just need to avoid you right now. You're too psycho for me." I'd be content with that. I just need to know he's okay. I'm giving him until Friday. If he hasn't contacted me by Friday, I don't know what I'll do. If he hasn't contacted me by Monday, I guess I will grieve for the loss of this friendship and move on with my life - hoping upon hoping that he just ran into his soulmate, fell madly in love and ran off to make all of his dreams come true... instead of thinking of him lying cooped up in a hospital bed all bandaged up and battered.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!! I wish my mind would STOP this shit. I wish it would stop thinking.
