Panic

Last night I worried endlessly, so much so I took more anxiety meds than I was supposed to, thus leading me to get drowsy and fall asleep.
My ex hates my guts, he's not taking my calls and got drunk last night, I worried for my kid, all kinds of things popped in my head.

Today I had to wash one more load of clothes, I wasn't looking forward to the laundromat, its been so hot outside lately and I'm not functioning at 100% right now.
To my surprise and delight it's beautiful outside, gray and gloomy.

I was feeling better already.

The laundromat is right behind my apartment, I sling my purse over my shoulders and tow a small white plastic bag with assorted dirty duds.

I'm looking forward to reading.

The laundromat is empty and that makes this all the more peaceful.

Sometimes or rather most of the time someone always talks to me, you'd think not to disturb someone sitting with their nose deep in a book, but people are bold I suppose.

I was okay, I checked the time on my phone and thought of my daughter, what is she doing now, is she okay even?

I would wait till I got home to call my ex and talk to her, hopefully he would answer the phone.

Reading the Namesake and lost in literary bliss, my vision started to blur.

I couldn't make out the letters on the page.

I got scared suddenly, took my glasses off and rubbed my eyes quickly, that helped nothing.

I stashed the book in my purse and stood up slowly only to feel immense Vertigo.

Standing was not the best option, I felt really dizzy, I held on to the folding table near by and that's when it started, the horrible trembling.

My legs buckled beneath me, my heart beat pounding in my ears. I don't know what's happening to me.

The woman next to me took notice and asked if I was okay, I didn't know what to say except I thought maybe my sugar was low?

She helped me sit back down, told me to take deep breaths and proceeded to head inside to the little cafeteria and bought me a coke.

I sipped the cold soda slowly and felt no better, I never trembled so much before, I was terrified.

What if I was on the verge of fainting or worse.

I couldn't stand being in public feeling this way, I stopped the washer and pulled my clothes out, tossed them into the bag and quickly headed back home all the while sipping my soda and wishing that I could hear my daughter's voice.

At home my air conditioner blows, the two cats my only company these days light up to see me.

I drop the heavy damp filled bag on the floor and head to my bedroom.

In my home I can breakdown, I can cry here and try to make sense of it all.

I called my ex, I needed to know if my kid was okay, no answer. I left countless voice mails.

My sister is at work, I can only text her, no reply.

I feel worse.

I'm contemplating calling the Rescue.

I know this next thing sounds stupid, but huge part of me wouldn't because I just don't know what to say?

Ah yes 911? I have an Eating Disorder, I think it's gotten the best of me, send help right away??

I lie in bed and close my eyes.

I start to get texts, it's an old friend who is having her own ED dilemma.

Talking helps some, I start to tell her what's going on.

She suggests if I insist on calling Rescue to tell them that I'm prone to passing out, that I fell like that now, maybe someone should come right away.

That sounds better than anything I could say.

My boyfriend calls too and by now I'm really feeling bad, once the chest pains start the panic sets in.

Now my mind is in overload. What don't I think of.

He talks to me and tries to reassure me this may just be a panic attack.

I decide to take Anxiety meds, walking is hard, my legs wobble, I feel like a newborn foul being pushed to walk for the first time.

My boyfriend's voice is soothing, I can barely focus on what he's saying at some point, but just knowing someone else is there with me helps. My other friend continues to text me too, two people now each helping me in their own way.

I'm grateful for the phone call but secretly I feel bad for my boyfriend, the poor guy can't do a thing to help me, and all I'm doing is worrying him.

God, he sure picked a winner.

I wish I could just be normal instead of having this Eating Disorder.

I feel like such a burden to anyone right now. I can't understand how anyone can even talk to me still?

I feel like a small snobby child who refuses to eat their vegetables, my problem seems petty compared to what other people are going through.

I don't feel any better but I feel bad talking on the phone, I decide maybe I should make soup, maybe eating something could help.

I drink Gatorade and finished the soda, nothing is helping.

I head to the kitchen, walking slowly and grabbing onto walls for support, both cats flanking me, meowing in delight at the possibility of food dropped on the kitchen floor.

I grab a pot for the soup and turn on the front burner, water is added and it's all set.

The minute I let go of the handle, I know I don't want to eat this.

I make the soup anyways and go lie back down.

I'm supposed to call my boyfriend back, but I feel bad and don't want to bother him.

I change my shirt, I'm freezing suddenly, the air is off.

The tips of my fingers are blue, my toes little ice cubes.

My sister is worried, she also wants to know how my daughter is doing, I tell her my ex won't answer my calls.

I have no idea what's going on, what if something horrible happened, what if he packed up all his clothes and takes her someplace far where I won't find them, a million things go through my head, I really just wish my chest stopped aching.

My sister says she'll call the ex and leave messages of her own.

Within five minutes she and I get nowhere.

I don't think I'll be hearing from her anytime soon today. If I felt better I would walk over there to see her, but everything happens for a reason, maybe I should just try to calm down and not show this ex of mines how unbalanced I can be, he may use this all against me one day.

The soup is cooled and I pour some in a cup, I sip the warm broth slowly, it taste extra salty for some reason.

It takes me awhile but I drink it all.

I have a small cup of ginger ale too.

 Now comes the hard part, the thing that says PURGE, I feel full.

Instead I lay down and quietly rub my chest, tears stream down my eyes, why is this so hard?

I start to think about my Eating Disorder and how much longer I can go on living this way.

I think I need to start being more honest about this illness, one day if something does happen to me, I would hate to leave lingering questions behind.

More importantly I want to leave all this bullshit behind.

I need to get back into Therapy.

I think this time around, I'll be honest about what's really going on. I don't know what will happen as a result but what I'm doing right now can't be any better.

If I feel better I'll shower or nap, I don't know.

I wish it was Wednesday already.

I wish a lot of things.