Panic

I'm having a panic attack, and the only way to try and keep it vaguely under control is to be writing something like this.

I would be doing coursework, but just looking at that seems to make it worse: I can feel my head burning as though someone had just poured a mixture of boiling oil and burning tar into every crevice in my brain and watched as it seeped it's way through all my synapses and seared away any pretence I had to intelligence.

So instead I'm doing what I started this blog for - using it to stave off the wave of hysteria by writing a post and letting my obsession for decent grammar and content flow and take over my head. Unfortunately, when I'm in a state like this, what my mind thinks is good content and grammar is different to what I would normally consider checks those boxes. So apologies to anyone reading this who is wondering why it doesn't seem to make much sense.

This is one of the worst panic attacks I've had in ages, and it is making me feel very ill indeed. I went to bed ridiculously early last night because I thought that if I could get to sleep it might not come. I didn't get to sleep. It did come, and it has lingered on into this morning. You don't want to know how long this post is taking to write, it's quite hard to type when you're shaking harder than the last Pope.

I've been trying to think of a way to describe the way that I'm feeling at the minute, but I can't get the words out. They've been taken in the flood which washed away my coherent thoughts of work and calm and forced itself out of my system in tears and sweat and phlegm and mucus.

This has not been a good first week of my countdown, and I am feeling more and more disillusioned with everything. I still wake up every morning and am still around to pray it might be otherwise every evening. I had hoped that this might not be the case and the the decision would have been taken out of my hands, but it was quite a vain hope I suppose.