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Aug. 8th, 2023 03:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
catharsis_logsCW descriptive talk of panic attacks and bereavement
Saturday night I had the first severe panic attack I've had in what feels like years. I was strangely cold, I've been turning off the air conditioner in my room and the night before last I literally put on a sweatshirt and pants. My lips were tingling and turning numbish and I had a really bad headache (crying too much).
Started crying really hard when the funeral people got there to take the body away, seeing them wrap him in plastic, then cover him with the body bag was really really hard. It was also incredibly hard to watch them load him up in the (white lol) van and drive away.
I feel like there's been a long period in my life, where whenever he drives away in his car or goes somewhere I like to wave... liked, to wave before he turned the corner and was out of sight, always with the mild fear that he won't come back. And this was the last time. He's not coming back this time, he's not gonna wave out the window with the sign language for I love you as he drives away.
So far the nights have been the absolute hardest to get through. My whole body likes to start screaming at me the most during that time. The absolute worst part is that what feels like a gigantic rock likes to sit in the top of my stomach and just roll around painfully. It like literally hurts. My apetite has been absolute garbage because of it but I'm trying to force myself to eat.
One of my sister's friends says that grief is like a rock that gets smaller over a period of time. Something that I read recently is that grief is like a cycle, it comes and goes. The better periods get longer and longer, but that total absence- like, no one in my life is ever going to be able to fit into that space in my life.
He was in my life for 31 years. He was one of my greatest protectors. He was pretty much my best friend. He loved me unconditionally and in the past days before he died he told me several times that the English word "love" was inadequate for what he felt towards me.
Last few nights have been tearsworthy. Saturday night was panic attack, I took a xanax (which I have for panic attacks), and took tramadol for my head pain.
The next day was better, I didn't have as much panic attack symptoms and did not have as hard a cry but I DID have some pretty bad insomnia and some pretty bad pain in my stomach. Got like an hour sleep then got up at 5am. Slept later that day for a few hours. Went out and picked up some drugs. Gave myself my T shot which started off the intense tears which had been building for a while.
Last night was... okay. I talked with my godmother during the day which helped me to cry a lot again later that night, I took another Xanax after the big cry later since during the phone call my godmom said that "that's practically what it was invented for" lol. I've been taking my other anxiety medication but it's not really touching it which sucks.
I also read that moving the body can help since the body is really going through a crisis in this particular moment. So I decided to get my stuff together and go work out for the first time in YEARS. Luckily a dude let me in when both of my keycards didn't work (I later realized that the one that might have worked was in my wallet lmao) and I worked out for about an hour, switching machines as needed. I did a machine that was like stepping but not which was uncomfortable after a while, I walked on a treadmill for a while, and then when my back started hurting I switched over to a bike and pedaled for the rest of the time. I want to talk to my PT about stretching properly before I go anywhere near weights however.
Anyway, like I told my godmother, it's early days yet. Shit sucks.
Saturday night I had the first severe panic attack I've had in what feels like years. I was strangely cold, I've been turning off the air conditioner in my room and the night before last I literally put on a sweatshirt and pants. My lips were tingling and turning numbish and I had a really bad headache (crying too much).
Started crying really hard when the funeral people got there to take the body away, seeing them wrap him in plastic, then cover him with the body bag was really really hard. It was also incredibly hard to watch them load him up in the (white lol) van and drive away.
I feel like there's been a long period in my life, where whenever he drives away in his car or goes somewhere I like to wave... liked, to wave before he turned the corner and was out of sight, always with the mild fear that he won't come back. And this was the last time. He's not coming back this time, he's not gonna wave out the window with the sign language for I love you as he drives away.
So far the nights have been the absolute hardest to get through. My whole body likes to start screaming at me the most during that time. The absolute worst part is that what feels like a gigantic rock likes to sit in the top of my stomach and just roll around painfully. It like literally hurts. My apetite has been absolute garbage because of it but I'm trying to force myself to eat.
One of my sister's friends says that grief is like a rock that gets smaller over a period of time. Something that I read recently is that grief is like a cycle, it comes and goes. The better periods get longer and longer, but that total absence- like, no one in my life is ever going to be able to fit into that space in my life.
He was in my life for 31 years. He was one of my greatest protectors. He was pretty much my best friend. He loved me unconditionally and in the past days before he died he told me several times that the English word "love" was inadequate for what he felt towards me.
Last few nights have been tearsworthy. Saturday night was panic attack, I took a xanax (which I have for panic attacks), and took tramadol for my head pain.
The next day was better, I didn't have as much panic attack symptoms and did not have as hard a cry but I DID have some pretty bad insomnia and some pretty bad pain in my stomach. Got like an hour sleep then got up at 5am. Slept later that day for a few hours. Went out and picked up some drugs. Gave myself my T shot which started off the intense tears which had been building for a while.
Last night was... okay. I talked with my godmother during the day which helped me to cry a lot again later that night, I took another Xanax after the big cry later since during the phone call my godmom said that "that's practically what it was invented for" lol. I've been taking my other anxiety medication but it's not really touching it which sucks.
I also read that moving the body can help since the body is really going through a crisis in this particular moment. So I decided to get my stuff together and go work out for the first time in YEARS. Luckily a dude let me in when both of my keycards didn't work (I later realized that the one that might have worked was in my wallet lmao) and I worked out for about an hour, switching machines as needed. I did a machine that was like stepping but not which was uncomfortable after a while, I walked on a treadmill for a while, and then when my back started hurting I switched over to a bike and pedaled for the rest of the time. I want to talk to my PT about stretching properly before I go anywhere near weights however.
Anyway, like I told my godmother, it's early days yet. Shit sucks.
