Now Playing: Drops of Jupiter (Cover) by Taylor Swift (tell me, did you fall for a shooting star? One without a permanent scar, and did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?)
I had my first panic attack in a long time today.
Panic attacks, beyond the prerequisite feeling of choking, suffocating, and impending doom, are just fucking humiliating. Along with feeling like you're losing grip on the here and now and your own sanity, it's all tied up with guilt and shame and frustration and embarrassment.
I'm someone who always likes to be in control. I'm what they call bossy. And panic attacks rob you of that need for agency, that need for autonomy.
An old friend popped up on social media, someone who would, had fate not intervened, be bombarding me with random 'did I ever tell you about that story about my ex-girlfriend and the kettle?' messages. But he's here but not here. He was talking to another friend, someone who I wish I could talk to more often but can't, because everything I say apparently sounds like a proposal or a declaration of undying love. It's lonely and frustrating.
I'm nostalgic for a fantasy that doesn't exist. A fantasy world where love was simple and life was good.
I have been strong, all things considered. I lost a friend. I lost my mentor. I lost my job. I've never lost my bravado, but I can feel something faltering.