Thursday, March 27, 2014

Don’t Panic!


My hours at work have been cut. By a lot. I’ve been trying not to panic over it and to focus on what I can do, which has been focus on one phrase, Don’t Panic. I have read the whole hitchhiker guide to the galaxy, this is one of those things that have stuck with me. So I have been trying to remind myself every chance I get, don’t panic.

I panic a lot. I have panic attacks, so much so that now I walk around with pills in my purse to counter act them. I’ve hit a point where I can talk myself down from some of them. I can talk myself out of having panics attack. It is a talent I never wanted to have.

By having this time off work, isn’t just about losing out on cash. It gives me time to panic.  To think about my triggers and I have to busy myself in order to keep the bad crap away. Even though I’m on meds, the triggers still affect me, and my brain is still very active. The meds don’t work like magic, taking away all feelings, but it is part of the way things go. It’s hard to turn it off sometimes. It hard to keep things pushed down and locked away. While this may not be healthy at all, it is a way to cope for now.

The truth is that I’m learning to be healthy. It something to work toward, and I honesty am not sure if I will ever be that. Or if I have ever been.

My mom saw I had issues when I was young. I don’t know what started this or why she decided I needed help. The first person that I remember talking  to was Brother B. The first clear memory of him that I have is sitting in a white wall, what I assume was an office, making clay people. I don’t clearly remember what I was talking about, but I’m pretty sure that it was my family, but I’m not sure why I was there, it is too far off. This started my life of living in offices.

In high school/middle school, I grew to kinda hate therapy. I had moved on from brother B, who I was bonded with, as we had moved across country. I was on to a new therapist, who wasn’t bad but not someone I felt that I could trust. Which caused me to start lying to her. I knew what to say to make it seem like I was okay. That I was okay. I started to believe it myself. That I didn’t have to open up,  I was okay.

I wonder how much different my life would have been if I had tried at this point in time. If I had found a therapist that I had clicked with. Someone I would have been honest with and gotten the help that I needed.

But that is in the past now, and I have to move forward.

-Skadi

I thought this fit. Don't ask why.

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