I just got my passport stamped as I entered the land of Crazy. I sit here with the air sucked from my lungs, trapped in some mental blockade of delusion and self pity. I can't break free. I need a nap. I need some meds! This is the world of panic attacks and this is where I am at this very moment.
The whole week, I could feel the crazy coming on. It creeps up on you slowly like a Jehovah's Witness knocking on your door at a family dinner. You know it's out there but you just don't know when it will get you.
I should have known it was on its' way though. This whole week, I have felt restless, hurried, emotional. I questioned if I were ovulating. Then, I googled what that word meant and realized that I wasn't. But then again, what if I were?! What if I had ovaries?! That would explain the mood swing! So, I panicked about potentially having female organs. But, alas, no ovaries. Panic diverted.
Last night, I was at my acting class and working with my scene partner and the teacher comes over and tells me that I need to be more neurotic. Hahahahahahaha! Me? More neurotic? This man clearly does not know me! I invented a level of neurosis. I wanted to punch him in his esophagus for the disrespect but I decided that I am too pretty for prison and that that was not the way to go!
I wish that having a panic attack were more like a resort vacation in the Caribbean. You know, sitting around on a beach and drinking a mai-tai while the sun sets in the distance instead of like a jackhammer that pierces your soul and exposes you for the insecure, fragile leper that you are. You know, or something like that.