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I've never had anxiety. Not unless I was about to get on a roller coaster or anticipating a test I hadn't studied for. Real anxiety. The stuff you see on TV when people are clinging and breathing in their paper bags for dear life anxiety. Never. Except once. My sister was leaving for school and the night before I had a dream that she was trapped in school and there was a fire. The next day there was a fire drill at my school. We all evacuated but when I got outside I felt my throat closing. Everything looked so real. I had never felt so alive. Both me and my sister's school was attached. The middle school on the other side. So when they evacuated there was no way of seeing her. The walk out of school was chaos. Kids everywhere. Everything was moving so slow but I couldn't hear anything. It was like I was under water. The sound muffled. I could barely realize what was going on. Like everything was moving without me. When I finally hit outside it was like someone pressed play. Instantly everything and everyone was moving fast and I was moving slow. My friends noticed I was lagging and started to pull me toward them but I couldn't take my eyes off the school building and the fire trucks. Suddenly I couldn't breath. It was so loud and busy no one heard me wheezing. I kept thinking, "Shes in there. I have to save her!". My throat started to close and I started shaking. I was lightheaded and felt like I was going to collapse. I knew if I didn't talk myself out of it, I would. So I started saying "She's not in there." Over and over again in my head. By then we stopped walking, having gotten to the schools evacuation destination. Everyone was talking so loudly I could barely hear myself. My friends in their own conversation. I remembered a movie I saw. A girl on the roof with her friend (?). I couldn't remember which had the anxiety attack but her (or him) started to point things out. To bring them back to Earth. So I did the same. "School." "Door". "Firetruck". "Window". "Teacher". "Steps".........
I've never had anything like that happen to me before again. Until I go to sleep at night. I'm not sure if I can classify it as depression, but at night before I go to bed, I get...sad isn't the word for it. Is there a word for it? The feeling of having your heart pulled right out of your chest, sucking the air out of your body, rock you to your core, yell out so loud nothing comes out? There is no word for it. And I don't always get that feeling. But when I do, there is nothing in the world to make it better. Except one thing. And lately I've been thinking about it. A lot.
I've never been as happy in my life than when I've resolved to commit suicide. That may be an exaggeration. There may have been times where I have actually been happy. But not at peace. Never at peace as much as when I have resolved to end it all. There's nothing like that feeling. It's pure euphoria. Ofcourse I've never gone through with it otherwise I wouldn't be here to tell it but I have thought heavily on it. At one point I was serious about it. It was back in High school when I was in a deep depression. I actually started writing a will: who would get my purple curtains or my new sneaker and my favorite jean jacket. I was so young but so determined. But not anymore.
Somewhere along the way, I got that little voice everyone has in their head, to actually love me. I learned what it was to love myself. I can truly say that that is one of my biggest accomplishments in my life. Not many people can say that. People go their whole lives not knowing how to do that. Since then my depression comes back every now and again but i'm usually able to talk myself out of it. "Don't cry. Look how pretty you are." Not anymore. It's been getting worse and worse and now i'm actually back to contemplation. No one knows and I think that's the most hurtful thing of all" I used to cut - the biggest cry for help. I would actually wear short sleeves hoping someone would notice but no one did.
At night, my feelings of loneliness have returned. That core rocking sadness. I've been contemplating again. Suicide and cutting. I've been thinking about how I would do it. I've finally come up with a method and how I would execute it. But I don't have the courage to do it? Or is it just that I now posses the courage to live?
I did want to talk to somebody about it but not now. Not anymore. I feel pathetic. Like I should have grown out of this. I feel so pathetic. PATHETIC. I've never felt that way about it. I'm just tired of feeling this way. I'm too angry to talk to anyone but too depressed to not talk to any one. But I guess as long as I can't follow through I'll be okay?
Lastly, I keep putting off that dr. appointment.
So for now I'm stuck in this never ending circle of depression.
Back around the rotary.

ღ Fiona ღ
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