The Early Blurb 15

Okay morning?

Had an anxiety attack last night due to some very interesting and complicated feelings. Stayed up practically the whole night, couldn't eat. I think I'm okay now, and eventually I'll have a chance to talk to my therapist about it, but for now I'm just gonna write about it here. 

The feelings I don't really mind. Its the physical embodiment of those feelings, via nausea and every symptom that comes along with it, the warm mouth before you feel like you're about to hurl, the stomach knots, the food refusal. It's like my brain knows I need food, my mouth likes the taste, my throat says NO GOD PLEASE NO RELEASE ME GET IT OUT OF ME AHHH- and my stomach is like....please....I haven't had anything since two o'clock yesterday....I'm wasting away.............gelp me..,,,,

And then my ass is like Oh You Ate A Single Spindle Of Pasta? 3 HOURS OF DIARREAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Probably TMI but guess what this is MY BLOG/public diary so idrgaf,

I find it very funny how formal, structured, and punctual the first couple entries were, and now I'm writing like I'm texting a friend who knows a little too much about me.

But maybe thats exactly what I need right now. Somewhere I can vent without feeling like I'm a burden. I know I'm not, specifically due to the fact that all of my friends constantly remind me and actively want me to "burden them with my thoughts" but like, shit dude. It's something I've always struggled with. I hate venting, I hate accidentally making things about me, ESPECIALLY since I'm autistic and one of my go-to conversational methods is giving similarly related information or anecdotes. It's a curse, I tell you.

The anxiety stuff is the worst though. Depression is as bad, you're sad, you wanna kill yourself, you even might, whatever - been there done that. Anxiety makes your entire body say Fuck You Specifically. Now this isn't a competition, I've had/do currently have both still because it's generational and chronic as a knee problem, but mannn I just Know in my heart that I prefer depression over anxiety, because aching in bed for two months will ever be as bad as not being able to eat/sleep/function because at any second you feel like you could projectile vomit enough to serve it up to a family of eight and still have leftovers. Like. Fuck. This debilitating mental illness that is only a small part of the laundry list of issues I have is actually disabling me. Who was going to tell me disabilities actually disable you!?!?!??!

Anyway, I think thats enough complaining. I'm good now, feeling pretty good weirdly enough.