1.17.00

Endured some extreme panic attacks today. I was very brave and just continued about my business as if nothing were wrong. As a result, I'm pretty proud of myself--however, pride can be a dangerous thing. I tend to have bad falls when I get too cocky about my panic. It's as though the panic is a separate entity from me and demands my attention. When I don't provide it, the panic becomes a petulant child, hounding me and harassing me until I give in and cater to it. It's exhausting.

Naturally, lungs are my current obsession. I have a hideous cough, no voice and I get winded doing the simplest tasks. The bitter cold gets me hacking so hard I'm sure I'm going to lose consciousness. I'm very aware of my breathing and am constantly second guessing myself as to whether or not I'm getting enough oxygen.

On a related note, Super Hula is taking off for the weekend to visit a friend in Santa Fe. I'm hoping against hope this means only fun for me--a weekend of much needed solitude and not an extended session with anxiety about suffocating slowly, alone in my apartment.

 

 

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