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00:37 - Tuesday, Jan. 25, 2005
not far behind
It is strange and beautiful when a passage that is not meant for my eyes to see (or maybe is even written in spite of my eyes, inevitably, seeing) changes my mind all in an instant.

You see, my mind is stuck in a cycle of either everything has to be perfect or we cannot be 'together' (officially, spatially, sexually...)'
and it has led to every morning the rise inside me, after he has slept in his own room for going on a week, or maybe ditched me for a totally unimportant response paper that, if he tried, he could probably write in five minutes, but instead has to for some reason get it done days ahead of time. Et cetera.

In the back of my mind I know he loves me, and all I am scared of is that he does not - because that would be the only reason for our undoing. Nothing else.

I never thought too much about how other people saw us, or how other people saw us maybe being more accurate than how I saw us, because 'they' are not immersed, because 'they' are not prone to panic... 'they' are not hoping for anything except maybe the lack of pain, like anyone would hope for someone who is not their enemy. 'They' know me better than I know myself, especially at this point, this semester where I am having freshman-year-of-high-school-esque panic attacks, the kind that don't confine themselves to one month out of the year, one week out of the month, and don't flare only at night. The kind that is beyond being scared of anything except dying. At this point in it if I threw up it would be okay. I would never have thought that this point would come. I never had insomnia in high school, or nightmares, unless I had a fever. But somehow, then, it was hell, and I know now, that if I had to go through what I went through then, it would still be hell... but not the same hell as now.

If I am not busy, I am depressed. If I am busy, I am stressed and anxious. If I am not busy, but have a small thing in my life that causes anxiety, I have panic attacks about it because it is the only thing there to trigger them. I realize - chemical imbalance - but I don't think so most of the time because chemical imbalances aren't seasonal, and dont vanish with the right sort of distraction.

I had this conversation last night:
'When do you feel better?'
'I feel better when it's sunny, or I am walking or physically tired or when I am concentrating hard on touching you.'
'You know that you can touch me when you need to feel better?'
'If I touched you when I needed to feel better and you refused me...'
'You would be able to guilt trip me into it by saying but I'm panicking...'
'It would be a cop out, anyway.'

He doesn't understand when I need to sleep with the lights on, or why I have nightmares about psychological thrillers I see, or why feeling unreal and dreamy all of a sudden in public is terrifying. He thinks it would be fun, 'like the flying dreams..' but the difference is, if you start flying in a supermarket, you are likely to, corporeally, be having a seizure or have fainted, or have frozen yourself within a daydream, and, if you can do that, being locked up inside your own head is not far behind.


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