The Time is 10:21 PM

So, this is a new one for me. I’m blogging right now, and I am also in the middle of having a panic attack. The height of it, actually. I pre-apologize for any mistakes in this post. Or if I ramble. Or if it doesn’t make any sense at all. I kind of just want to experiment here. Will this post sound any different from others? When I read it a month from now, will I be able to tell – exclusively from my writing – that I was in the middle of a panic attack? 

Staying away from home for me has always been hard. When I was a kid, it was hard because I missed my parents. Now, I’m all grown up (…mostly). At 22, going on 23, I feel like being away from home is no longer the challenge it used to be – at least not for the same reasons.

Eating. That’s the challenge. Eating other people’s food, worrying about getting sick while you aren’t in your comfort zone, is still an element of my anxiety and emetophobia that I struggle with today. I am at my fiancé’s house right now. As I write this, I am sitting on the floor of my future sister-in-law’s bedroom (who is an amazing person and is kind enough to sleep on the couch while I stay over at the family’s house). I’m shaking. My vision is a little weird.

My stomach barely even hurts anymore. But I overhead my other future sister-in-law talking about her own stomach upset while my stomach was feeling a little weird. And that equals panic. A big ol’ panic attack for me. I can’t stop it now. It’s come on full force. I know when I get this way there isn’t much I can do to stop it.

We ate the same thing for dinner.
Both of our stomachs hurt.
In the same way.
We must sick.
We must have food poisoning.

As soon as I overheard her, a wave of nausea came over me.
Hit me right in the face (or stomach)

Am I making sense? I feel like I am, but my thoughts are all over the place right now. If you wanted to get inside the mind of someone literally having a panic attack, well this is your chance.

I’m worried that I’ll get sick. I’m worried that I will have to sleep in someone else’s room, in someone else’s bed, while either feeling or actually being sick. That is the scariest thing in the world to me. I’m so uncomfortable right now. My fiance isn’t even home. He’s actually at work right now. And I’m almost okay with that, because when I have a panic attack, I want to be alone. Just seeing someone can spark a new wave of fear. I don’t know if everyone is like this, but I have always been this way.

When I was a kid, my mom used to get so upset when I would want to be alone during panic attacks. I know it killed her – but being alone is the only thing that makes me feel better. Maybe writing this out will help. Or maybe not. Maybe I need to distract myself. Yeah, I’m going to go. This post probably wasn’t all that interesting. I’m sorry.

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