Anatomy of the Episode

The word episode makes it seem like I'm having a psychotic breakdown of sorts. Which I am...but why not say I lose my shit for a few hours, then I'm back to normal. Normal? There IS such a thing?

I already know when it'll happen, probably two or three hours before it hits me. Sometimes the night before. But how do you show up at a hospital emergency room or a doctor's office and say "Hey, my chest feels like it has a ton of bricks on it? See my hands? They're shaking. I can't breathe...No. Stop telling me to slow down and breathe, I'm telling you I can't! My heart is beating irregularly and it has stabbing pain that's intermittent. What do you mean nothing is wrong with me?" Yeah. Try that little number a few times before you just decide to ride these off at home, in the comfort or discomfort of your own loneliness and misery.

Yes. Loneliness and misery. Both created by me. Because in the midst of my increasing agitation and frustration, that negative feeling in my chest turns to anger at everyone around me. Anger and bitterness and resentment. I have two reasons to hate people. If you're a friend, then you know by now I have these moments often...and you should know what I need. Well, you should know if I could make up my mind. I push everyone away because I know I'll lash out at them, but then I'm angry and resent them because they're not attentive enough or say the right things. There is no right thing to say. It's a trap. Run away from me. I'll twist your words and make you feel like a piece of crap...because I feel like a piece of crap. The other reason I hate people is that somehow, behind their reasoning (their clear minded, well balanced, healthy brain reasoning) I should just be able to be talked out of these episodes or talk myself out of them. "You're ok. Just relax." Jesus. I'm okay? It's okay that the chest pain now is spreading like fire down my left arm? It's okay that I can't take a breath without bending over in pain? It's okay that my hands can't stay still long enough for me to get a grip on myself and not the nearest sharp object which will be used to slice myself? How is that ok? How is it okay that if you ask me "What's wrong?", I have no answer.

I don't KNOW what's wrong. I DON'T KNOW. Nothing triggered it. Nothing extraordinary happened in my day. Nothing good or bad. It could be a completely plain, uneventful day and I'll snap. Out of nowhere. I'll feel trapped and betrayed and spiteful and alone and God only knows what other feelings. Dead. How can I feel so full of rage and feelings, yet dead? Don't you think I'd like to know how to NOT do all those things to myself? To stop? To be normal?

I'm so busy trying to hide that I'm all sorts of messed up so that I can provide ya'll with support and an ear and a friend and advice...

Don't you know me by now? I'm not asking for the same in return. I'm asking to stop even attempting to process how it is that I function. I don't even know how I function. Who are you to say what I need or don't need?

Just say "Sorry you're screwed up. Anyways, here's a hug and a Diet Coke. Lemme know when you're done self destructing."