Journal Entry – Cut from Angst

I tried to go to a party tonight at Jared’s house.  I couldn’t do it.  At first I couldn’t leave the house, my stomach was knotted  tight and I was breathing in little shallow gasps,  I didn’t want to leave the safety of the bathroom.  Finally, somehow, I got myself out the door and into my car, legs so wobbly I could barely walk.  Talk about panic every second.  I was shaking, hard, and I could barely turn the key in the ignition.  Then I was driving and the tears started again, ruining my makeup.  Uncontrollable.  Sobs, shaking, queasy stomach, fear of throwing up or worse, heart throbbing a mile a minute.  Thoughts of self pity, self hatred all mixed up together.  My body is out of my control.  It does what it wants, when it wants and it scares me.

 I almost turned back 100 times on the drive to his house.  Then once I got there I couldn’t leave the car.  My fear of the unknown, my fear of embarrassment and irrational thoughts were mind blowing.  I’m one sick motherfucker in more ways than one.  I kept trying to get out of the car, but my legs were so weak, the shaking so bad, my stomach clenched and aching,  that I had to sit back down.  Suddenly my car was the safety, his apartment was hell.  I couldn’t go inside. 

Do you know what I did?  I’ve finally fallen over the edge of sanity.  The fear finally has control because I drove home.  I left.  I turned on Pink Floyd and was asked “Is there anybody out there?”  No.  No one is out there because I am all alone with the monster.  My disease is in control of my mind now.  I want to die. I can’t live this way.  I can’t leave the house.  I’m way past normal now.  And sometimes I wonder who I would be if I didn’t have this goddamn fucking curse hanging over me.  But I can’t even imagine it.  I can’t imagine my life not tinged with fear.  I’m finally lost.  I went up to my room and I cried so much that I simply can’t cry anymore.  My eyes are dry now, red and parched and I know the truth, this can’t go on.  I need help. I don’t know what to do.  I don’t want to admit this to anyone.  If only I can get through the last few weeks of school then maybe I’ll do something about it.  Maybe I’ll finally admit that this is too much for me to handle alone.  I hate to admit it though.  I hate to admit personal failure.  What other option do I have?