It is never just a little bothersome when I wake into a panic attack. It is always "something is killing me". Being off gluten has helped with the pukes and the panics have staved off much more but here we are.
I'm on my front step, terrified and looking for something to do with my hands and brain. I am forcing myself to write.
I feel like weaning is going to be a long and excruciating journey with a lot of back steps. I'm a huge 24 hour glass of time and everytime I reach in desperation for a pill, I have to start the glass over again.
I try not to think about it. My morning started off badly with a sense of dread. It was like liquid lead coating my tongue and hardening my stomach. I had a seizure. I could feel Mark kicking my back and all the sudden he wasn't. I don't know how long it lasted but my body felt like fuses had gone out in my legs arms and stomach. Heavy. So heavy. I think they started around 6am and then Rodney woke me up around 0720 and I forced myself up to get Arya.
...
I had about 5 seizures today. Right now I'm salivating heavily and my heart is racing. I have a book next to me "Ten Simple Solutions to Panic" but it seems so far away.
I've been on edge today and I managed to be benzo free until about 2. I took one around 10 and I crushed 1.5 and rubbed them into my gums about 15 minutes ago. The glass has turned again. I feel like I'm floating and everything I can see is poor cinema. An indie film with a poor excuse for avant garde. Plot twist? There is none. It's the same shit. I'm tapping my feet and fiddling with my free hand, rubbing my temples and typing out this blog.
Tomorrow has to be better... But the upcoming tomorrows are always faced with dozens of white flags that I wave and drop.
This is the hardest thing you'll ever do... Again and again... And it doesn't get easier.
No comments:
Post a Comment