posted on Tuesday, Aug. 15, 2006 @ 22:47
"small," lamb
sunday evening i had a panic attack. this was the first one i've had in 3.5�4 years. i can't even remember because it's been that long. it was utterly terrifying. i've told multiple people i'd rather cut off one of my toes than ever have another panic attack in my life.
i bought de-worming pills for janeane and tima since i've seen little white bits around their butts that remind me of bugs. i cut them into small pieces and mixed them into soft food. they ate around most of the pieces, and when i couldn't get them to swallow them by force i snapped. owen was doing laundry, and i tried to force-feed janeane by myself. when he pulled away, it lit a fuse. i hit him and yelled, "why the fuck won't you eat this?!" i walked into the kitchen to wash my hands, in tears, and owen appeared. i said in a choked voice, "i am so pissed off." i washed my hands and started crying harder.
i went to owen, who was hanging clothes in the closet, and buried my face in his chest, sobbing. i started blathering on about the money i wasted on those pills, how hundreds of parasites were eating my cats from the inside out, ending with, "i don't know what's wrong with me. something's wrong." i continued to sob while owen said he would buy them more pills if they need it. again i sobbed, "something's wrong with me." he made a comment about the cats, which led me to shove him and yell, "god, fuck the cats!" and slam the door on my way out of the room.
as i stood in the foyer staring at my james dean poster, uncontrollable rage and frustration and desperation welt up inside of me. i punched the wall three times as hard as i could, and i didn't even feel it. i looked at my hand, which was shaking with red knuckles and torn skin. i covered my face and let out a scream, a generic frustrated UGH kind of scream.
i walked into the living room hyperventilating. still sobbing uncontrollably and pouring sweat, my entire face was wet. raz, who had been lounging on the couch, looked at me in shock before jumping down and retreating to beneath a table. i apologized to her and collapsed to my knees, eventually sitting down completely.
i sat there at the threshold of the living and dining rooms, wailing, raking my hands over my face, while my brain became exponentially scrambled. it was like static, or film coverage of a busy new york street put into fast motion complete with the high-pitched shrieking of feedback. then, the unmentionable happened. the voice i fought for years to stomp was suddenly alive again in my head. her. the one to tell me i'm worthless, that i may as well get it over with, feeding me these images of blood. i don't remember the last time i heard her, and just thinking of it now has me in tears. i'd imagine this sounds schizophrenic to most people, but i tell myself i'm simply a victim of my own imagination. i sobbed harder and hit my head, muttering, "no, no. shut up!" repeatedly. i may have heard her, but i was strong enough to tell her to fuck off. i have never, in years, wanted to cut myself. in the past month or two i pointed out if i were four years younger i'd have been cutting myself. that wasn't an urge, though, just a recognition of a volitle moment i would have otherwise been unable to handle. sunday, though, god it was hard.
as i was on the verge of yelling for owen to make sure i didn't do anything to hurt myself, i heard the bedroom door open and close. he rounded the hallway corner and came to sit with me. he rubbed my back as i continued to sob, and i explained what i'd been going through in broken speech. after a few minutes i calmed down, only to start crying again from embarrassment.
then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. i sat in silence staring at the floor for a while before crashing on the couch to watch tv. an hour or so later, i got up to make a most delicious meal of chicken with garlic-y, cheesy orzo.
this kind of has me living in fear of if/when it'll happen again. it's definitely left me drained thusfar this week. speaking of which, i'm just going to go bed and shut up.
<3, chels
p.s. raz bit me saturday, and it's become infected. i got a tetanus shot today, and my arm is very sore. also, have some pictures of my time on the roof of speedway garage at 5:30 a.m.
(you can see stars.)
and, of course, an awesome kitty picture.
