I used to get panic attacks all the time- I still get them frequently. They have always been embarrassing, debilitating, and game-changing. Now though, after everything that’s happened, I’ve found that I have less tolerance for the attacks, where I thought I would have more. This time it only took a few days of unrelenting stress and panic before the depression hit like a tsunami wave.
It’s true that the body can only sustain a full blown panic attack for a short time- but it’s amazing how many will fit into one day. One woke me up at 4:20am today, instantly crying and flooded with despair. I feel paralyzed, wounded, and unable to make a decision, and I hate being in that place. It would be easier if the choices were better, but like one literary character said: “Women like us, we don’t get the pick of the litter.” True in so many ways.
I know I’m first world lucky, blessed, but I am so frustrated with how fucked up our world is, how evil seems to be winning, and lasting happiness is always out of reach. All my work means nothing, I don’t feel like I can do anything good here, and I am seriously touch deprived. I wish there was someone who could come crawl into bed with me and share some strength. I feel completely hopeless and overwhelmed with sad, and it’s even more distressing to have thoughts of self harm yet again- that makes me even more depressed because I’m old, experienced with this, and I should be doing better than barely hanging on.