Hello. It is morning, and it isn’t a good one, not in the slightest. Why? Because I’m in the middle of a panic attack, on the verge of tears.
It all started the moment I left the flat this morning. I was on the way to Peer Support group. I could feel the onset of panic, the breathing starting to go, the feeling of doom and disaster. Just waiting for the first thing to make the panic worse.
And that duly arrived. On the bus, traffic. And lots of it. Cue panic attack getting worse. I was feeling trapped, as though the walls of the bus were encroaching on me. Then another thing to add fuel to an already raging fire. People, and lots of them, piling on the bus. The feeling of entrapment was getting worse. I wanted to get off.
Why the loads of people piling on? Apparently there were problems on the local trains, meaning everyone was seeking alternative routes. By this time, the sense of foreboding was apparent. I wanted to bail out of going to the group and return home.
So I aborted the journey and got off the bus. I got a return bus, still with loads of people on board. I felt helpless, desperate for the bus to make it back so I could go home. The panic was worse at this stage.
I made it home. I’m now in bed, wanting to hide from the world. That’s the worst panic attack I’ve had in a while. The whole world was ganging up on me and I felt trapped and desperate to escape. Horrible, horrible feeling. Unpleasantness on a grand scale. I’m back behind closed doors, don’t want to face people today. I’m extremely jittery and quite emotionally charged. The least little thing is making things worse today. Still, there’s always tomorrow.