I had a panic attack today. It hasn't happened in a while. Let me try to describe it. How it consumes me and wraps its fucking claws round my entire self. You feel it coming and you can't stop it. You feel it creeping up on you like a predator. Its presence lurks up and before you know it you're in its grip and mentally and physically crippled.
Your heart races. You get short of breath. Tears literally drip from your eyes and you feel utterly helpless. You feel like you're going insane.
I hate it because it's like a reminder that I'm mentally ill (as if I need reminding). My Intruder pounces, just to let me know he's still there. Like a big "fuck you." I've felt good over the past weeks. I still feel good. I'm happy and I see hope shining through into many areas of my life. So this panic attack has hit me sideways. My Intruder has punched me in the face. It has come out of nowhere. That's the thing - it's a stark reminder that I may have depression all my life. It may well be a piece in the picture of what makes me Tom.
I'm okay with that. I simply hate being absolutely knocked over like this, where I have to leave work in a mess, climb into bed, close the curtains and hide from the world.
I won't be be beaten. I will win the war against my Intruder.
No comments:
Post a Comment