Took a break from the job hunt this morning. Probably should have written my CV for the job at The Drake, though. Shit. Watched The Nanny and relaxed. Walked to the gym, did my thing and walked home. I was kind of in a mood on the way to the gym, listening to a lot of ballads, etc. I know that sounds counterproductive to regaining my happiness, but there’s something comforting in a ballad. I felt better after my run.
I had dinner at home and felt down about the fact that I couldn’t afford even $10 to go to the Business Woman’s Special disco party that everyone was going to tonight. Oh, well.
While sitting on the couch, I started to become quite anxious. It came out of nowhere. I even started thinking about suicide. Not in a way that I would act on, but that everything was piling up and taking over my life. I didn’t realize what was happening until a few minutes in and then it became clear that I was having a panic attack. My heart was beating out of my chest. I started frantically pacing around my apartment. It felt like a living nightmare. As if everything was closing in on me like in that trash compactor scene from Star Wars. It felt like I was on salvia again. That fucking salvia. Jesus Christ. I never want to even say that word again. The thing is that I can recognize the specific emotions, feelings, and actions during these scenarios, but the attack still happens.
I stopped, talked myself off a ledge, and turned on the A/C. I was very close to running outside for an escape. I felt sick. I wanted to make myself sick, too. I wanted to throw up my dinner but I stopped myself because I didn’t want to go down that road again. I took a rare gym picture of myself today and I liked it. I looked good. And I want to keep up that positive image. Not stare in the mirror at puffy, post-vomit eyes again.
I tried watching TV and put on a Mariah Carey concert DVD. “Hero” came on and I cried. It all came out. I put on “Music Box” and “Anytime You Need a Friend” and just sat on my floor and sobbed uncontrollably. I hate this. I don’t know how to be happy again. I keep trying so hard but everything else keeps taking over. I deleted Snapchat and Instagram in hopes that the lack of constant comparison will help me focus. This came right after RX popped up on the “Interested In” tab on Instagram. Fuck. Off.
I decided to focus on something else and started working on the artwork for the Mariah party I’m hosting in March. It looks good and was a much-needed distraction. Lauryn texted me and could tell something was wrong. I started crying again, but that was the last time.
I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I can calm myself by breaking things down and being rational about them. It’s the lack of money, lack of Logan, and lack of a job. I can deal with it all, I know that. But, sometimes – I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ve processed it all yet. And I don’t know if I want to. Clearly, I’m already spending too much time in my head as it is. I just keep telling myself, “Things could be worse.” And they could. So, I don’t have a job. So, what? I’ll get one. A quick trip to the community center across the street will remind me of how lucky I am to be in my version of darkness.
Goodnight xo
The “rare gym picture.” Gym, Toronto
The resulting draft of the Mariah Carey event poster I worked on tonight.
@yalittlenasty Instagram post from today.
I made this right before I deleted my account this evening. The video was originally filmed when I went to the Andy Warhol exhibit on January 1, and the person I look towards and smile at is Logan.
“Hero” - Mariah Carey
"Music Box" - Mariah Carey
“Anytime You Need a Friend” - Mariah Carey