No rest for the wicked.

Okay. Time out. This isn't funny anymore.

I had hysterics last night. I'm sure a panic attack was part of it, but I had hysterics for several hours because I'm sick of being sick. PTSD and agoraphobia totally suck. I'm just tired of it all. Well and truly fed up. I haven't been writing very much, or doing much of anything at all really. I've been too busy being not well. Okay I've been too busy trying to ignore the fact that I'm not well.

I've had two of these episodes, that are really weird. I think they are anxiety related, but in each case I started feeling like I was drunk or something. All of the sudden the world just stopped making sense. Everything became very surreal. I totally lost the ability to speak coherently or think much at all. I felt like I was drunk, like, I opened my mouth to say one thing, and an entirely different thing came out. By the time I say something, I've lost my train of thought. In both cases I became hysterical. I just got overwhelmed by everything, all the shit I've been through, and the sense of futility of trying to deal with PTSD and all the rest.

I watched this documentary once, where these frogs had to climb up a waterfall. That's what I feel like. I've been climbing up this completely vertical surface with tons of water crashing on my head, making me lose my grip and fall, making it nearly impossible to climb hundreds of feet to the top. I don't think the frogs were really climbing, I think they were swimming, but the principal is the same.

I've even been having hysterical dreams of the same caliper. It's exhausting. No rest for the wicked.