City, Panicked

quirky. almost thirty. female. professional consumer of mental health services. too many diagnosis to track. dog lover. occasional fitness enthusiast. social media junkie.
Recent Tweets @CityPanicked

This is tonight’s dilemma. It’s not am easy one since I’ll feel super happy and motivated and energized and lucid for a bit. But then I drop and then I dissociate and then sobbing, panic, and confusion. With all that is going on I feel so terribly alone, completely invisible or a nuisance.

Those thoughts lead to darker, scarier, more dangerous thoughts and I can’t make them stop.

How I’m coping in my cool, dark living room:

- Hours of TV as background noise.
- Puppies.
- TJ’s ginger mints for the nausea.
- Bengay Zero Degrees and Vicks Vapo Rub to cool me down when I start getting anxiety and/or nausea sweats. The Vicks also helps me breathe more deeply and prevents me from hyperventilating.
- Chill Out aromatherapy spray and lavender essential oil.
- My favorite hand moisturizer.
- Facial mist.
- Medicinal cannabis.
- Floss picks when I am feeling compulsive. They keep me from picking or cutting.

I’m already dreading work tomorrow, seeing as how I literally ran out of the office when I left. Also, I have to change out of pajamas and shower and sit upright. And drive. And focus.

I guess I’ll worry about that later. For now I am taking Benadryl since I about doubled the amount of Ativan I should take yesterday. Pdoc won’t increase the script or give me supplemental Xanax.

I need a frying pan to the head to be numb enough for this.

The story below is going to sound impossible. This many bad things can’t happen to one person. But they did to me and in order to move past them, I will work through them in reverse chronological order.

I mean after one bad relationship after another I thought if had finally found that guy. He supported me. We were in love. He called me by my many pet names. We laughed. A lot. Yes there were ups and downs but lately things have been great.

Then they weren’t. Today I find out that the man sharing my bed has been married for nearly a month. While he was out of town “for work”, he was actually marrying his ex-girlfriend, now wife.

I spent the past month sharing a bed with him. Making love. Fucking. Simply being held and falling asleep and waking up to a kiss.

This morning that was my life, but by noon I discovered that everything has been a lie. He keeps pulling the crazy card, saying he didn’t want to break up with me in because I’m too sick and too fragile and I’ve been a burden. Really sensitive. He also didn’t want to be a burden me with the additional cost of him moving out. Instead I paid his rent.

And it turns out he did have the money. Just used it to pay something else because he know I’d cover him for rent. Oh, and did I mention he doesn’t have a car, is 12 years older than me and has had me supporting him 100% for several months.


This blog is about to go all diary on you. Okay, maybe journal is a bit more accurate. I linked my Day One journal and now, if I write an entry that I feel like sharing, it will end up in my Tumblog.

R is in bed right now and I feel awful about it. I know he wants me there. I know he wants to be intimate and I don’t blame or resent him for it. I wish I could make him happy but lately sex is a huge panic trigger. It is awful. Especially because it was seriously amazing up until a few months ago. Then I went inpatient and when I came out, I was terrified of anything sex.

I’ve actually improved. At first, even talking about sex was a huge trigger. Any light graze of my skin lead to me pulling away and getting disproportionately angry. I didn’t want human contact. Before the hospital, the majority of the sex that I had was while under the influence of alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Making the adjustment to sober sex hasn’t been easy. Too many bad memories.

So yeah, sex is terrifying and my poor boyfriend is a saint. I think I’ll go snuggle him and let him know how awesome he is.