p-dawg is back with a vengeance.

by epi

it’s funny, cuz i didn’t think this rope had an end. alas, ‘end of rope’ meet epi. epi meet ‘end of rope’.

in case anyone is stupid enough to wonder… panic feels like breaking. over and over. never ending. my heart is being squeezed and punched and pierced by knives and little needles. blood bursts, flows freely and clogs itself in my throat. i find i can’t breathe and i start to cry. i don’t care that this is public. i don’t care that everyone sees and pets me softly on the head. only that it hurts and i can’t make it stop. tomorrow, i make an appointment. tomorrow, i find out if maybe pills might help because i can’t take this anymore. today was my breaking point.

why do i panic? why is my body sad when my mind isn’t? why can’t i be uncomplicated? why do i worry so much? there’s nothing wrong with me. except my body keeps betraying me. keeps producing too much adrenaline, keeps making it until it becomes poison, keeps pumping it through my body & now i both need it and hate it. a drug. (it’s because, little by little, i’m ridding myself of them. nicotine. alcohol. facebook. boys. little by little my mind is freeing itself and maybe my body hates me for being strong enough. i’m not though. i just want God back. i was just willing to do anything to have him back. i think i have him back. and i have the panic back too. it seems unfair, to me, right now.)

there is nothing wrong with me. except me. i’m my biggest problem.

(i put it here because telling someone, even invisible someones, helps. it hurts a lot less right now. like speaking it controls it. that at least, is a blessing.)