XII

The euphoria after a panic attack is a serene feeling. It’s the same feeling you get after playing that one game where you breathe hard in fast succession till you get lightheaded and fall face first into a soft surface, like a couch or a mattress. I’m sure you lose brain cells but the after effect is worth it.

I just had a panic attack in my kitchen. I have to go into the office in two hours. I guess it’s better it happened now than at the office. It’s my second one this year. I wonder if I’ll get a third under my belt before the New Year.

I could ask for help. I could always ask for help. But I’d rather just drown than to ever ask anyone to help me out. I don’t think anyone would help me out. I’ve given enough cries for help for it to be meaningless at this point, when no one has made the effort to reach out. I don’t know how people get so much attention doing this on Twitter all the time. I guess I’m just bad at it or not interesting enough. There’s only so much you can exploit your insanity online before you come to the harsh realization there is no calvary coming. All you are is just another voice in a sea of pained souls.

Anyway, the last thing I’d want to do is scare anyone. If people only knew what went on in this brain of mine.

It’s better this way. At least that’s what I tell myself to make it seem as if being totally alone in the world isn’t so bad.

It’s fine.