Depression Talk

On Sunday I had another one of those days at work, a day that I simply didn’t know how to process or deal with, and so I did the only thing I could think of.

I started drinking beer and chain smoking.

It was a grand evening, in all, except for the unfortunate incident which involved me deciding to sober up and have a pop and some fudge. The fudge was stuck in the pan, and so in my infinate (slightly buzzed up) state, I decided to retrieve it from the pan with a steak knife. Of course, the steak knife ended up embedded in the palm of my hand, blood poured about the kitchen (Not on the fudge, fortunately) and things kind of dissolved into a messy situation with band-aids and tears abounding.

I ended up having a panic attack that night, sitting in the kitchen holding my head, trying to regain a part of me that would make things stop spinning and blurring in and out of focus.

Panic attacks are very scary things, things that I don’t know how to control.

That panic attack made up the third one of this week, a third episode IN ONE WEEK. I don’t know how I end up having panic attacks, or what causes them, or what makes them go away. My panic attacks have no particular rhyme or reason, they follow no orderly rhythm, and have no cycle. They don’t happen in conjunction with particularly stressful things in my life; unless of course you count the other night when I found a utensil firmly planted int he flesh of my hand.

I discussed it with my mother afterwards, the ever supportive woman who has helped me get through all of my insanity issues thus far in my life. She said that, of course, after the day I’d had and the drinks that I’d consumed, of course! Of course it makes sense to have a panic attack!

And she’s right. So that’s one that I’m not going to worry about, I’m not going to think about. It will not weigh on my mind or stay with me for any period of time.

Later in the night, while I was on my way to bed, my mother took my had and looked at me. And she said “Just, you know. If you think you’re totally losing it again, could I get a head’s up? Just some notice so that I can plan for it appropriately?”

And I said yes. Of course. If I’m going to go completely stark raving mad at any point in the near future?

She didn’t even need to ASK me to let her know. Trust me. She’d know.

YOU WILL ALL KNOW.