Yesterday I admitted myself to the ER because I was having a severe panic attack for 4 hours. 4 straight hours of nausea – heart rate around 130 – and uncontrollable shaking. I couldn’t stop it no matter what I tried. Imagine your body is acting in a way you can’t control. In a way that is causing you physical pain and you can’t stop it. It’s mortifying. Having to tell people this mental illness that most people say is fake is taking over your mind and body. After going to the emergency I’m shot up with meds to sedate me to lower my rate and stop my shaking. Some would think it might be nice but instead it hurts. It hurts to watch your boyfriend who planned a trip home sit there with you at 4 in the morning. It hurts to watch him watch you suffer. It hurts to watch him not get any sleep all because you can’t just “calm down”. I would say the worst part about all of this anxiety is watching it hurt those around you. I suffer daily and it consumes my life. There is no light anymore for me. There’s nothing to look forward to because all I fear is anxiety and panic will happen. Life isn’t enjoyable for me anymore. But instead of killing myself and ending my suffering and misery I’m going to go on a walk. Because I would rather suffer than watch everyone around me who loves me grieve and suffer. Because I’d rather watch my boyfriend not get sleep than watch him sit next to my grave. I’d rather just go on walk than have someone have to come clean up my body and blood. I’d rather just go on a walk than have my dog constantly sit looking out the window wondering when mommy will be home. I think I’m just going to go on walk
