Ho, ho, ho. Merry Apocalypse that wasn't. It's almost a shame. My anxiety has been off the chart lately. Got some family drama, because no holiday would be complete without it. My birthday party, in 9 days, is only partially planned. Christmas is being divided into two parts this year, due to aforementioned drama.
Four panic attacks today. Good times, good times. My anxiety is like this little voice in my head telling me that no matter how hard I try, I am going to be a complete failure at every venture. It's like being haunted by my dead grandmother on my father's side.
I tried to quit smoking, and the timing was bad to begin with, but I couldn't handle it. I'll try again after the new year.
I am fighting with myself to do my therapy homework. I don't want to do it, because it sucks, but I need to do it. At least according to my therapist. My cats are fighting right now, and I am too tired to give a damn.
I haven't read a book in like two weeks because I'm too stressed out to sit still that long. It's almost bad enough that I feel like I should be inpatient for awhile. Almost. It sort of feels like the feeling you get when you drink a bunch of energy drinks. Heart's pounding, everything is almost painfully bright and clear, my brain can't quite get my body to do the right thing at the right times, and I feel disconnected from people around me. It's like being a penguin and everyone else around me is a Llama. Penguins and Llamas can't empathize with one another very well. The penguin is a land and sea creature, but llamas only understand the land. The penguin can't very well ask a llama for directions for routes via the sea. It just doesn't work.
I'm not making any sense anymore. That means its time to stop writing.