A Penny For My Thoughts? I'll Tell You For Free

Hi, there.

I haven't slept yet, and I'm going loopy.

Last night I went to Zumba class, and shook my stuff as much as I could without looking like Elaine's dance from Seinfield. Once class was done, I walked to my car with my friend Shanidy and I wasn't feeling well. I didn't tell her because, well she has enough stuff going on. But I sort of waved good-bye and immediately regretted not telling her I needed someone with me asap, because I knew what was coming. My breathing got faster and my vision sort of blurred, my head spinning as I struggled to open my car door. I flung myself on the seat and turned on the AC quickly to feel the air on my face, no help whatsoever. I sat without moving for about 5 minutes, looking at the sun set out on the west side of town. I knew what I had to do, and I had to hurry before I was rendered unable to talk. I called home, and calmly explained I wasn't feeling to well after class and would be late to dinner. I hung up and immediately grabbed my chest, which was hurting so intensely and leaving me out of breath. For a second I thought that working out had provoked a heart attack (fat people + gyms don't mix), but when I felt the hiccup sob burst through my lips, it all became evident.

I was having a full blown breakdown in the middle of the parking lot for our community college. I cried, like one cries when someone dies. Desolate, loudly, muffled screaming while covering your mouth. I could not stop. I felt so ridiculous and stupid for giving in and not being able to control myself. I doubled over and leaned my forehead on the steering wheel to stop the spinning. It took me about 30 minutes to regain enough strength to even slide the key in the ignition. I called Jeff on the way home, which helped beyond words. He didn't ask the inane 'what's wrong, wanna talk about it' questions. I can't talk about it, I wouldn't know where to begin nor do I have the energy for it. He simply asked how was class and if I shook what my momma gave me. We spoke of baseball and being sore losers. I breathed easier and found my way home, ate my dinner and spent the night watching romantic comedies on Netflix. Har. Har.

I have my psychiatrist appointment tomorrow at 12:15, and I don't have the $30.00 copay I need to pay for it. I'm holding off on cancelling it to see if I can pawn off some jewelry or something for it. I've never been this desperate to make myself well again. I need to sleep, I need to talk and I probably need a beer.

I look like hell.