I miss blogging. A long time ago, people read what I wrote.

People talked to me about it.

Told me how to make my writing better.

Now? I've lost most of my friends, anyways.

I haven't posted in over a year. And I'm going to explain why.

I have...several mental ailments.

I suffer from four forms of anxiety.

General Anxiety, with Agoraphobia.

Separation Anxiety.

Social Anxiety.

And worst of all...

I have extremely severe Existential Anxiety.

It's crippling.

I feel like I am at war with myself, and it's only getting worse.

My body clenches up involuntarily.

I sometimes can't breathe.

My heart beats way too fast, and skips beats.

My chest tightens up.

Sometimes I scream out loud, sometimes I swear I scream but it's only in my mind.

I cry uncontrollably.

I tremble in pain and fear.

I can't speak. I can't move.

I feel like I'm dying.

I'm trapped inside my head.

My triggers are science, space, et cetera.

The things I love.

The things I've loved since childhood.

I can't read or watch or write or even think about certain things.

The things I love, without panicking.

It's ruining my life.

I'm in so much pain.

Sometimes it happens with no triggers.
Just...for no real reason.

I love space. I love science. I love everything to do with both.

I love studying religion, death, medical sciences, and the supernatural.

I can't study any of those things without taking my anxiety medication beforehand.

And sometimes I have to double up.

I still push it, I try to see how long I can push myself before I have a panic attack.

Sometimes I make it several hours, sometimes only seconds.

I don't talk about it publicly because that won't fix it.

It won't make it stop.

I also hate people knowing things about me.

I'm a very private person, but if I want to start keeping up on my blog again, I guess I have to get over it, right?

I only have two people, my husband, and my best friend.

I know that two people is more than a lot of people have, but also less than a lot of other people.

When you take into account that I can't talk to anyone without getting panicky, two is a lot.

Even so, I feel alone.

Like I said, I'm trapped inside my head.

I'm tortured day in, day out.

I'm stuck trying to force myself to overcome the uncontrollable anguish.

To push through so that I can read about the things that actually keep my attention.
The things that make me happy.

I'm so afraid.

I want to break free, so badly.

But I can't.

Methods that worked before, don't.

I can't escape it, as much as I try.

I don't want to be dependent on my medication, but nothing else helps.

Writing used to ease it, but keeping a journal isn't what it used to be.

I'm usually okay during the day if I stay home.

I keep myself busy with cleaning, cooking and taking care of my daughter.

But if I want to check the mail, I have to take my medication.

This is destroying me.

I have isolated myself because I can't cope anymore.

I've always had existential anxiety.

I remember dealing with it as a small child.

But it was mostly sporadic.

But not anymore.

It's been affecting me continuously now, for over a year.

It hurts physically, and mentally.

I just want it to stop.

Love, Life and Drastic Changes.

When you love someone, you sometimes have to adjust and face serious changes. Say you've fallen in love, and the person of interest has a child. Could you make such a major decision as to be something of a parental figure? Say you hate children and you, yourself, do NOT want them. Could you bring yourself to be there? No matter how hard it may be, no matter how hard you have to work? When you're in love you sometimes have to make sacrifices. This is mine:
I don't want children. Nor do I remotely like children. But I'm in love with a boy. He has a daughter. I'm willing to get over myself and be there no matter what. It's all worth it to me. And I feel that it takes real love to make this kind of choice with no one even asking this of you. It takes real love to want to be there and swallow your pride enough to do so. And I've done it. I've decided, on my own accord, that I want to do this. I'm sure if I bond with her, it'll be alright.
I plan to help him gain full custody of her. Why? Because I love him. And he'll be happy. And I'll be happy.

The moral of the story is, love is a many splendid thing. (quoted from Moulin Rouge) And I promise you, it's real and it can save you. But take my word for it, never follow your heart or your brain. Always, always, always follow your gut. That's what I do. And it's when I ignore my gut that everything fucks up in the end. So whenever my gut says it's wrong, I listen for fear of losing the boy I've given my all to. And a quote from Moulin Rouge, a quote that I hold very close to my heart: The greatest thing you'll ever learn, is just to love and be loved in return.

When you love someone, that is the greatest feeling you'll ever have in life. And when you have it, hold onto it as if nothing else matters. Because that's just it; nothing else matters. Nothing. Else. Matters.

Discuss.