Personal Journal

A panic attack

Basically, I'm falling apart today.
I thought yesterday was bad, so I stayed and worked at home. I got all my little working-man concerns aligned, went to bed on time and got up and was productive. But for that flashback memory, and this problem I have with my identity right now. And I came into work and started right into my tasks, all the while alienation was dragging me DOWN. I started falling asleep while typing. I started having hot flashes and getting short of breath. Then I realized I was having a flashback.

Some of it - the most of it, actually, is grief over Jean. That was the trigger and it apparently followed me overnight, through sleep and into today. I just needed a hug so badly, and my friend Joyce wasn't at work. I waited for her for a half hour hoping I wouldn't cry, at least until she got there, but she never came.

So I came here and foolishly sent an e-mail about this event, and I say foolishly because most people think of that as a cry for help. Basically there are only a few people who can help, and I should keep it to myself until they are available. So I embarassed myself before the person I sent the e-mail to. And that only made me feel worse.

But finally Joyce arrived and I just looked at her, and she understood. And I needed a hug so terribly terribly badly, so without asking, I just leaned into her, and I cried into her shoulder for a few minutes. I don't know if I said anything.

And then we talked about it. I'm tired now, and probably will be a lot. It could be bad for my performance at the tournament.

I told Joyce. I'm prepared to say now that I'm clinically depressed. She asked me if I thought I would not be, and I said, no. I knew I'd be affected, but I knew this was coming, Jean's death. So I didn't expect it to be so harsh.

And it was worse because last week I really thought that I was arriving at a place of integration with it all. As Joyce said, I probably am, but this isn't a linear progression, it's back and forth and many points all around.

I hate those memories of Jean dying. I was so proud to be there when she died. I felt so much like I was doing a sacred duty. AFter all, I had promised her that I would be there telling her I love her when she took her last breath, and I WAS.

But now those memories bring me intense sadness, pain, and anger, and I don't understand why, exactly. Why are things getting worse, not better. Why is my life leaving me more alienated when everything I've tried to do in the last two weeks has been about making me feel a sense of belonging in the place I'm in now.

It is never too late to be what you might have been. -- George Eliot
Courage to start and willingness to keep everlasting at it are the requisites for success. -- Alonzo Newton Benn