I Know This Place
I know this place. I know it well, and I know that once I’m here, there’s no way around it. I can feel the panic attack coming on. And I also know that it’s not going to end anytime soon. It’s funny how different the relationships can seem, yet the feeling when it ends always is the same. Well, the same, but worse. It’s never been this bad, but then again maybe it always feels worse because I always find myself adding up my losses, like somehow every failure is connected to a mistake I could have avoided. oh WOW. WOW. This is really bad. I can actually feel my heart convulsing, like it’s literally breaking or something. It feels like there’s a hole there and the hole is saying the word “no” over and over again. Like softly, not yelling, just like this… ‘no no no no no no’ like it isn’t going to end. I know it’s going to end.
I told you, I’ve visited this place before.
I know my way around, but I never like coming here. Every time I’m here, I think - this is it, this is the last time. It is a toll road, after all, and usually those are convenient but can be avoided with a little bit of caution and creativity. Local driving. Slow. I didn’t go slow. I guess I figured it was okay to go fast because I could slow down anytime. Right? That’s how roads work. I thought I could turn around before it was too late. Guess it’s more of a turnpike then, huh?
oh, OUCH. That one really hurt. Like I can feel my entire stomach collapsing, and my brain is pounding and GOSH I wish it would stop. But I told you, I’ve been here before. It doesn’t stop for a while. A long while. The last time I was here, it took me almost 5 months to get out. I didn’t eat and I hardly ever slept. It always hurt to wake up. For months, I’d feel like reality was haunting me every moment I was awake. All I wanted was to sleep and forget, but every time I closed my eyes I would get that awful ‘no no no no’ and then my heart would start to give and then before you knew it I couldn’t breathe and it was dark and oh GOSH I hate this place.
I know what’s going to happen, too. I am going to stop eating for a while, then binge eat because I think it will make me feel better. Eventually I’ll start working out obsessively, because I think I can trick my body into feeling better faster. It never works. And one day, I’ll wake up and things will just feel a little bit better. And better. And better. And then it will be mostly gone, but the scar will still be there because occasionally I’ll remember something and I’ll be back in that dark place again. But mostly, the feeling will be gone.
I’m scared because now that I’m here, I know it’s going to take me months to feel normal again. At least. And every time I’ve come here, it’s gotten worse. This place is expanding, I guess… they’ve built parking lots or something because every time I’m here it seems it takes me longer to find my way out. Like a reverse Shangri-La or something. Hah. That’s funny. I wonder if anyone would want to live there. You would still be young forever, just miserable.
I’m on my 3rd panic attack and 4th bowl of mac and cheese today. Maybe I should get a prize for that.
It’s funny because I start to realize how alone I am whenever I come here. I think about my family, like my mom and my dad sometimes, and then everything gets darker and deeper instead of more comforting. That feeling when I can’t stop crying, like I’m in some bottomless hole or something - the first time I remember feeling that way was when my mom would lock me in the car at the mall because I was misbehaving. A bad child. Bad. Did I do something bad?
I feel bad. Like I did something wrong. Like maybe I had to come here for time out. Like I know maybe things would have ended, like eventually, but why now? Maybe I was driving too fast. I should have waited. I should have watched the road more. Well, anyways. Here we are. We’re here. I know this place, and I guess I should find a parking spot. I’ll be here for a while.
July 27, 2014