Trapped In Panic

No one can really understand panic, unless they’ve been in the grip of it themselves, I only thought I knew what a panic attack was until just lately

Lately i’ve been having strange feelings in my chest, with everything else I worry about, I never really gave my heart much notice, I think finding out about someone I know recently having a stroke and being left paralysed hasn’t helped me from worrying and stressing out about it

I’d been having strange feelings in my chest for quite a while, which started in my lungs, but after a chest x-ray, it showed nothing wrong

As each night past, my symptoms started getting worse, at first it was breathing problems and slight panic, then it become breathlessness and nausea, for a while I thought it couldn’t be panic attacks, because I’d suffered with that before, and this was something different

Eventually with the breathlessness and nausea, it felt like my breath was being taken from me, my heart would beat so fast and uncontrollable, I could feel my chest tighten, a dragging feeling on my heart, an had pains down my left arm, I’ve felt like I was going to either swallow my tongue, throw up or pass out

With my heart beating so fast one night and becoming more worried about having a heart attack, I thought, this is it, whatever is going to happen is about to happen

I ran to my back bedroom window, breathing in the cold air, and listening to the stream nearby seemed to calm me, but every time I returned to my bed, the panic and symptoms kept returning

I spoke to my doctor on the phone, Dr C, she told me it was anxiety and panic, and to try the relaxation techniques I’d been taught, as I said, someone who hasn’t had a panic attack wouldn’t understand what its like, an that relaxation techniques don’t work, when you’re in the middle of having one

Gradually every night, things just kept getting worse, so I was sent for an ecg, which is a heart reading, it was normal, as were my blood tests and blood pressure

I went in to see Dr H today for a further check up, again its been ruled as panic, his amazing advice ‘if you think you’re having a heart attack, come up to the surgery’ I just said that if I was having a heart attack I’d like to think I’d make it in time

I asked for some diazepam, to help me, but he said no, that I should try to relax and maybe watch a dvd!

I told him that I don’t really have anyone I can talk too, my mums going through her own problems, my step dad an I don’t talk, my aunt never listens, and my brothers are always drinking

I must admit, since the ecg, and tests, I haven’t had another panic attack, but when I feel stressed, I do still feel it in my heart, I’ve been referred back to the psychiatrist again, but for now, I guess I’m on my own

Selfish Ways

A little while ago, I came into some money, after fighting for it for years and feeling like the day would never come, it finally did

They say money is the route of all evil, and I can kind of relate to that, having this money, has been one of the most stressful things I’ve ever experienced in my life, you can never do enough, you can never give enough

Its starting to affect my health, I’m having breathing problems, its affecting my heart, I haven’t had to deal with panic attacks for a long time, now I’m having them almost every day

Before I had even spent a penny, I had given my step dad, aunt, brothers an my older brothers girlfriend five hundred each, I gave my mum fifteen hundred, although I’ve given her a lot more since

After a while I also decided to give them all an extra one hundred, to put towards things they really wanted, so when the money was gone, I could see the things I helped them buy

My older brother wanted a car, my younger brother wanted a new tv, my mum wanted a new fence, my step dad didn’t want anything so I gave him the money towards oil, my aunt wanted her daughters name etc engraved on the headstone, not one of them used the money for what it was given for, but that’s their choice I guess, I’m not really bothered about that

Along with the hundred pound, my older brother wanted to borrow five hundred so he and his girlfriend could buy the car, and my younger brother wanted to borrow four hundred for the tv, so I agreed to that, my younger brother tried to push for more so he could buy a tv and a lap top, he’s also asked for money for a deposit for a house, and for a quad, but I said no

My younger brother has since destroyed the money I did lend him, and my older brother has already borrowed two hundred from the five, towards drink and drugs, I’m very disappointed, I was trying to do something nice for someone, and they do this, it doesn’t matter if I’m getting the money back, or that I already agreed to lend X amount

Recently, i had to lend my younger brother another one hundred (although this is from the money I was lending my older brother for the car) so he could buy groceries etc after destroying the money I’d already given him, and he destroyed that too, his girlfriend said she knew nothing about it, and that she was getting paid in a couple of days, so he must have lied to me, I won’t be giving him another penny

I think to myself, these people, my family, they must think I’m some gullible joke, I’ve given them money, I’ve bought them things an didn’t take back the money, but as I said above, you can never do enough, or give enough

Some might ask why I would have even given in up until this point, but when my brothers are drunk or high, there’s no talking to them, its better to lend them what I know won’t take them long to pay back than to fall out, them sober I can handle

I think its best that the gravy train ends here, that I don’t agree to lend anymore until I get what I’ve already given back again, my brothers alone already owe me seven hundred

Before I even got the money, I knew this is how it would be, that I’d constantly be asked to lend money, that my family would see things they wanted, couldn’t afford and then come to me for a loan, that it would be like wolves clawing at a door

Money when given, should have no strings attached, but not one of them even bought me something, even something small to say thank you, and I think if the money had been in one of their hands, they wouldn’t have been as generous as I’ve been, and to be honest I’m regretting being so

Its been this way for years, my family waste so much of their money, living beyond their means and being foolish, and then turn to usually either my step dad or I for a loan, the problem now is, I can’t use the excuse that I don’t have it, although the account holding the money is miles away, so I could say I have no money available

When I first got the money, I had said, that I would take them all for a meal, as a way for me to celebrate, which I agreed to pay for, now I keep putting it of, because I feel I’ve done enough, and do they really deserve anything more from me

I have been gambling quite a lot lately, its silly I know, but its an escape, I’ll admit that, its easy for them to tell me how I should be spending it, but its ok when they take and borrow my money for anything they want to do

I might gamble a few hundred, but you’ve put the same up your nose

I’m twenty-eight years old now, I don’t need anyone telling me how to live my life, people should hold a mirror up to themselves first before they judge me and my choices or decisions

I don’t think I’ve properly expressed how stressful it is for me in this post, I don’t feel like I can enjoy the money, I feel like its been more of a curse than a gift

Its never ending…

(Keep an eye on this post for re-edits)

Tarnished

This post is of course belated, but my writing never seemed to gel for me, my minds been swirling for over a week, an I’m not happy with this post, but I’ll just have to accept the way its written…

As new years eve was slowly coming to an end, we stopped at an off-licence so I could pick up some alcohol, in doing so I felt this feeling of dread for the evening ahead

New years eve dinner, eventually turned into a buffet, it was fun having us all together, as it should have been at christmas, I had said that once mum an my step-dad were ready to go home, I was going also

My mum an step dad left right after the count down to midnight as they don’t really drink, an I should have gone too

That didn’t happen, I feel ashamed, an I’m just going to be honest, I ended up taking, I’ll call it ‘stuff’ which leaves it open to speculation, I said before that I would never touch stuff again, after doing so, there was no way I was going home

My mum has since said not to touch it again, because its just not me, an she’s right, I keep pushing myself to be somebody I’m not, an do things I never would, I get lost in the moment, I lose myself, which isn’t a hard choice to make sometimes

I just felt like if I had of went home, I wouldn’t of made the most of new years eve, an that I’d be missing out, like I do most times because of my mental illness an what comes with that

There was me, my brothers, their girlfriends, and some of my brothers friends, so about 8-9 of us, as time past an I kept drinking and taking more an more of that horrible stuff, the fun left, I started having memory loss, I became paranoid, and started to see things

I thought I could see someone hiding behind a tree outside, an thought someone was spying on me through the window, a picture on the wall looked like it was raining, I saw lots of people just walking around outside, an about thirty people getting into one car, I saw people running towards me, it was dark outside, but they looked like they were in sun light

It wasn’t scary, as I knew it wasn’t real, my mind wasn’t even making up whole people at times, some of the people I saw had strips of their body missing, it was like a cliché in a computer

After a while I was so tired I was passing out, so I knew it was time to leave, I was there from, wednesday, new years eve, until about half nine friday morning, I left an came home, others continued on after I’d gone

I don’t know how I got home, I was so tired an drained, I hadn’t eaten or slept, I tried to walk normally, but of course I was still a little drunk, an I smelt like I’d been running through a forest or sitting near a bonfire

I slept all day friday, an all friday night until half four on saturday, by then I was only just about recovered, I’ll never touch that stuff again, I mean it this time, when I came home on friday i almost cried, I felt so dirty, so ashamed, I never want to feel that way again

I can’t blame mental illness all the time, but its the fear which usually holds me back, and the regret among other things that push me to be impulsive and sometimes reckless, so sometimes its like I’m trying to live the time I’ve lost