I woke up at 5 this morning; it was still pitch black. I could tell without even moving or getting out of the bed that the heating wasn’t on. And then I remembered that my car was at the station. I started panicking. Completely disproportionate reaction to a minor inconvenience. I panicked some more.
A panic attack’s onset is normally a bit of a build-up, like a storm. This one was a sudden bolt, grabbing me by the throat and sending shock waves from my chest to my stomach to the soles of my feet. Sick nasty feeling pools my stomach. As if I have just told a nasty joke to the wrong person. Or I’ve sent the text message to the person the text was about. You know that feeling? Took actually hours to bring myself back down again. Spoke to BBF, BFF, FlatmateM, my dad my mum my sister. All of whom highly supportive and reassured me that I was not going mad, that I would be fine, and that they all loved me. BBF insisted on trudging down to the station to get my car. I am very loved and lucky.
I have always been a worrier. Mum said as soon as she would pick me up from school when I was five there was always some sort of problem. But as an adult? I am becoming ridiculous. I am letting it own me. It’s just fucking bullshit really.
More jogging should help me keep a lid on it. I hope it does.