This is either going to be one big rant and rave, or a pretty lazy account of my life lately. I haven't quite decided, yet.
I don't know if I am coming down with something, or am on the verge of having a huge panic attack. It's been over a year since I've had one, but at that point in life, I was having them quite regularly. I don't know what panic attacks are like for other people, but for me, I end up feeling either hot or cold, and also feel nauseated. Dizziness and an overwhelming sense of tiredness is next, and then I am usually compelled to check my own pulse, even though I'm not quite sure what I would be checking for anyway.
Thing is, my sister came down with the stomach flu about the same time I started feeling poorly. And to be honest, there really hasn't been all that much going on in my life to warrant a panic attack coming on in the first place. I think what bothers me the most though is that it's been more than a year since the last ones, yet they were bad enough to make me worried that it was happening again.
My mother was plagued with panic attacks for a great portion of her life. Even now, she's using medication to combat these expeeriences. When I first started having them, it took me more than 6 months to realize that they were actual panic attacks, and not some weird illness. I was prescribed anti-deppressants and took them for about a month until I made up my mind that I didn't want to be taking them for the next 20 years like my mother was. So I started changing what I ate. I made myself excercise a lot more. I started walking, playing more b-ball, and swimming before signing up with a gym where I would hit the excercise machines and weight training equipment.
Lord knows how it happens; the deterioration of a healthy lifestyle.
A few more cigarrettes a day, and the skipping of a game in favor for a day at the beach. The skipping of another game in favor for a movie out. A few nights on the town, and a couple of pizzas ordered in while watching the Superbowl on tv. And the next thing you know, you've gained a dozen pounds, have taken to sleeping in or having more than just the occasional nap. Instead, you've started sleeping your troubles away, savoring chocolate instead of savoring a job well done.
I don't know why I've changed writing styles mid way. Maybe I don't want to admit that I've done it myself, and am trying to pass the blame onto someone else. No wonder I'm starting to feel sick again. I think, what I need to do instead of watching a DVD while I pound on the keys online, is just get out. Go for a walk or something. Bloody hell. The last thing I need is this again.
Later.