Sleepless Solitude: The True-Life Journals of a Xanax'd Millennial (Part 2 of 12)

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February 16

February 16

Mom and I landed safe and sound back in the frozen tundra we call home. Dad was two hours late picking us up at the airport, and after having no sleep on our red-eye flight, I was not in a good mood. We finally got home to Casa Z, I did laundry, then went to bed for a few hours.

Soon after I woke up from my nap, I started applying for jobs. That’s when it happened. I started having an anxiety attack. I should have known it was coming. Even when I took my seat on the plane last night, I started feeling extremely closed-in and claustrophobic. It was exactly how I felt at home today.

Eventually, “The Feeling” passed. However, it wasn’t long before the attack was followed up by another episode. I was trying to work at my desk, but I couldn’t focus. Every time I was hit by another wave of anxiety, I’d get up from my chair and frantically pace around my bedroom and bathroom, taking deep breaths and trying to calm down. It’s a vicious cycle, though. I’m having the anxiety attacks because of the fact that I don’t have a job. But, in order to get a job, I have to apply for one. Well, I struggle through that process because I don’t have any hirable skills. So, how do I fix that? Do I go back to school? Even just thinking about that option sets off another panic attack.

I picked up my phone during one of the attacks and called Dr. Cohen’s office. I scheduled an appointment to see him on Friday. Five minutes later, after yet another wave, I called back and rescheduled to the earliest possible appointment, which is this Thursday. I need help. I need to talk to someone and figure out what the fuck is wrong with me. Things were so good over the past two weeks. But, now that I’m home, it’s like the clouds have grown larger and darker than ever before.

Everything feels so much worse right now. I feel more distant than ever from Logan, even though I saw him just over a week ago. I feel completely discouraged with this job stuff, to the point that I don’t know how much longer I can continue pushing through. And the worst part is that my suicidal thoughts continue to intensify. I keep hoping that this will all pass, but it’s clearly getting worse. I can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel anymore. It’s all darkness.

I took a shower to try and calm down. It barely helped. Afterwards, I packed up all of my stuff and Dad drove me to my apartment. I broke down during the car ride and started crying. Dad tried to help, but asking me questions like, “What do you want to do for work,” doesn’t help. Why don’t people understand that? This is the whole issue! I don’t know what the fuck I want to do. If I did, I would have that job or be studying the skills required to obtain said job. I hate that goddamn question so much. Dad told me everything was going to be alright and hugged me at my apartment, reassuring me that he and Mom would do everything they could to help me. I’m very lucky to have them.

I spent about ten minutes in my apartment trying to settle in, and then unsuccessfully tried to call Logan. We had been texting earlier, and he was helping me feel better when I told him that I was feeling really anxious, so I wanted to call and chat some more. I like talking with him on the phone. Logan didn’t answer and never responded to any of my subsequent messages. This is a big part of my anxiety, too. I’m in love with someone who will never love me back, yet I can’t seem to let go of him. I have to. I have to. But, it’s so hard. I’m so in love with Logan and I want him in my life. Is this just infatuation? I don’t know anymore. I want all of Logan. I don’t want a text or a phone call here and there. I want everything, and it’s becoming more and more clear that Logan is never going to give me that.

I started having another panic attack at my apartment. I grabbed my coat, ran outside, and did a lap around the block. The fresh air helped.

In a very random turn of events, Naomi was in town from Vancouver, so she and I went for dinner together tonight. It was amazing. I haven’t seen Naomi in three years and I hopped in her rental car like I had seen her yesterday. I love that about us. We talked about everything at dinner. Naomi told me that she’s had issues like this, too. In fact, before dinner, I was texting quite a few friends about what was going on with my anxiety, and they all helped me in their own way. I don’t like to share a lot of this dark stuff with friends, but sometimes I think I need to. It helps to know that I’m not alone. I’m very lucky to have them.

After dinner, Naomi and I went grocery shopping, because her psychotic boss wanted her to make chili for him tomorrow. Ridiculous. We bought all of the ingredients and then she dropped me off at my place. The plan was for Naomi to come back later so she could spend the night and get off the couch she’s been sleeping on at her boss’s condo. I couldn’t do it. I was home for five minutes, and knew I needed to go to Casa Z.

I packed a bag, took the car from the condo, and drove home. I cried a lot on the way, but it was therapeutic. I needed that release and I feel a bit better now. I know a lot of this will pass, and I’m sure some of it has to do with my lack of sleep after that red-eye flight, but I’m still following through with the doctor’s appointment. I need it. I’m not looking for pills, either. All I want is someone to talk to who is trained in what to say to improve my situation. The last thing I need right now is to be sent around in circles by people asking me, “What do you want to do?” I’m hoping Dr. Cohen will know where to send me.

I got home pretty late and immediately crawled into my bed, which is where I am now. I used to have nights where I would lie in this bed, look up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling, and think to myself, “I’m so happy. I have the best life.” All I can think now is that I don’t even care if I wake up tomorrow morning. I want to get back to myself.

She smiles through a thousand tears

And harbors adolescent fears

She dreams of all

That she can never be

She wades in insecurity

And hides herself inside of me

— Mariah Carey, “Looking In”

Goodnight xo

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