I had one last February 15. And I was so unfortunate that there was no one around but an *sshole who thought he knew what he was talking about – I’ll tell you more about him in my future posts, trust me there is a collective derogatory essay about that jerk that I share with several colleagues. It was bad news one after another that made it hard to remember the good days. It was a feat of great proportion that left me groping for straws. Try as my friend would, they could not put me together. Perhaps because all I wanted to talk to was Dan and I felt deeply stuck in the shadows because I could not reach him.
So here I am still in bed on a seemingly good day for a movie and a shopping. My astonishment over my solid block anxiety attack eats away any sense of meaning. I’ve been wondering. I decided to get up and peek at the fridge for anything to eat. I ate something that tasted like cardboard. Which triggered a thought – I might be sick. Because every time I get sick I lose my sense of taste. However right now, I’m not feeling anything that may signify that. Now I’m befuddled.
A voice at the back of my head suggested I research on it. So I did and learned that they do have a name for this. My pervasive low mood spelled it clearly for me. After reading pages and pages of research, I went down to the kitchen again and openned a bottle of Vodka Ice. I’ll be headed to the hospital within the week. I need myself diagnosed, I want this clinically resolved and I need a pill in case I encounter an episode again. It was much too uncomfortable and I don’t want to go down that road again.
Currently listening to Standing Outside A Broken Phone Booth With Money In My Hand by Primitive Radio Gods via Launchcast Radio