So, the beautiful thing about being diagnosed with Panic Disorder is that you get to tell people: hey, I’m struggling today so don’t expect much. The problem with that is that you are going to see your boyfriends family who has no idea what is going on in your head (and in reality nobody really knows because it just can’t make up its mind…) and so you have to save face and act normal when all you want to do is hide in a corner with your coffee and crochet hats for poor kids in a school district you’ll never live in.
When i have a panic attack, it feels like everyone has eyes on you. Never mind the fact that we’re grabbing our hair, trying to pull the thoughts out with your hair and screaming in a fetal position. Once that passes the embarrassment takes over and another micro panic attack takes over and you start crying. I still haven’t been able to go back to that movie theater.
It’s these days when i wish i had a service dog to lean on me and reassure me that everything is ok. I can’t for quite a few reasons (including psychopath dogs and insurance disagreements) so instead I have my coping habits which have become more and more difficult to perform. I pain, crochet, or do my woodworking. My painting only works when I’m hit with a chair by my muse, my woodworking only works when I’m at home, so i crochet. Even then, coping while crocheting is tricky. Not only do i have to keep my hands busy, but i also have to keep my mind busy.
I just read all of this and feel like I’m complaining. I’m making excuses for my mental illness. AM I allowed to do that? Being high functioning and mentally ill means you can get by even though your world is falling apart in your mind but you can’t take the day off right? Cause “at least you don’t have it as bad as some people”. I hate that. Even though i don’t exhibit signs of the extreme doesn’t mean that they don’t happen behind closed doors. Lately I’ve been so upfront about my mental illness that when i meet new people or new dates, I’ll be upfront about it. Sometimes I want it to be worse so that people would understand what goes on inside my head that they can’t normally see. But then i wonder how much of a grip I have left on my sanity. On my reality.
I feel like that could be a song. I’ll probably write that and post it later.
Stay Green Witch Approved.