Monday, February 5, 2007

Journal - Panic attack

Seems like all i've done is write today. I think DD finally fell asleep. I'm glad because she was crying and upset and I knew I needed to let her just be whiny - that I couldn't give in to her wanting to come sleep on the couch or have me sleep in there, but on the other hand, her screaming/crying is driving me crazy.
I came home, barely making it in the driveway before the panic attack took over. I came in and told DH I needed a shower. Sat on the floor of the shower and tried to cry, but couldn't. Tried to pray but couldn't get the words out - even silently in my head. So I just sat there, until the water ran cold. Then "faked it" for awhile.
Tried to do my Bible study tonight before class tomorrow. Doing fine until I get to the part about presenting each part of your body to Christ for His service. Hands -- okay fine. Eyes -- okay fine. Feet - okay fine. Flip the page. Stomach - hmm that's a little hard. Sex organs --- what? WHAT? You want me to give those over to you? Where the hell were you when I wanted to give them up at age 12. You could have had them then. I'll give them up. I sure as hell can't control them. They don't do what ~I~ want. Don't respond when I want. Don't fail to respond when I don't want them too.
I can't read any further. The rest of the study is about using your body to function in God's service and about letting Christ control your body instead of you. What the _ _ _ _ ? I don't want my body. I want it gone. I want you to take it. Now. You can have it. All I do is let it be destroyed - destroy it myself - avoid it - try to escape it. So you want it? Fine - have it. Tonight I drove by the bridge columns - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 break, 6, 7, 8,9, 10. DD was in the backseat. But I wanted to hit them. Hard. Give that physical body up in a second. Take it from me. There are plenty of ways for you to do it. I don't want it any more.
I want so badly to reach out for help and find someone that will just hold me and let me cry. Not try to solve my problems. NOT ASK WHY (that's for you DH - I don't KNOW why so QUIT asking me). To not judge. To not commit me to the hospital when I say I don't want to live anymore. To not try to change my mind. To not try to convince me that life is grand and good. I think I could find someone to do some of those things, IF I were willing to ask and reach out - but not sure about all of them.
If money and family and everything were no object, I would somehow transform it into summer right now. I'd pack up my bags - not much stuff - a few clothes, lots of good books, some scrapbook supplies, paper, pens, and lots of suntan lotion. I'd head for the Lake. Just me. Maybe the dog and a big stuffed animal. I'd lie on the beach. Take a raft out to the middle of the lake. Push my body harder and further to run a greater distance, swim across the lake, everything. I'd lie under the sky and scream at God. Cry my eyes out. Give a voice to all my feelings. All the things I am unable to do here and now. I can't even let all my feelings out on paper, although I'm getting better. I can't say it silently inside, or pray it silently to God or even myself.
I can't imagine going on another year, month, week or even a day, like this. I'm tired. I can't get up the strength to fight. I just want to go to sleep forever. In a way it was easier when it was about the abuse - that is ugly and evil and I expect it to be. But now it's more about me - the middle ground - what I've done with it. And that's looking inward. Much harder, much uglier, taking longer than I thought. I try to find a reason to live and I think of DD. I don't want to screw up her life, like my mom screwed up mine. But really, am I screwing it up worse by being here in my present state? I don't know.

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