In my own self exploration, I noticed that sometimes there is a type of guerrilla warfare in the mind. Hidden feelings, Paradoxical emotions. They are the sniper fire of brain chemistry. Completely inconspicuous, waiting to strike when the target is most vulnerable.
Really the only effective defense against a sniper is the hide the target or make it hard to hit. The target, of course being me. The rest of me. Seclusion.
I guess what I’m trying to say here is that a persons enemies can say a lot about them. You can learn volumes by studying a persons foes. So in self exploration, the key would be to locate enemies of my mind. Maybe bad or undeveloped emotions and analyze them. Find the source and they should, in theory, disperse or become my ally.
The problem is, I’m not entirely sure where the enemy is sometimes.
and in the battle field of the mind, friendly fire can be devastating.
Tag Archives: panic attacks
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What they teach you when you are treated for a panic disorder is something that I find particularly important. And I would like everyone to read this because this is something that I really think everybody can use.
The whole basis of the treatment is merely a true understanding that although this is terrible and you feel as if this is the end – ITS NOT. The most effective treatment from any really caring, trained doctor isn’t drugs or any other means of escape from it (which is the easy way for both of you and probably more profitable for them) Instead, its EXPOSURE. What that means is that when you’re knees are giving out and it feels like you cant breathe and you feel like this is truly the end. STAY. Dance with it. Let it run through you. It will be ok.
So, It’s like being shot with an arrow. This hurts right now, but you’re ok. You shouldn’t struggle to try to pull it back out, you have to push it through yourself. Let it run its course. Or else you can just keep taking perscription pills for the pain and just walk around with an arrow stuck in you forever.
THE SIMPLE TREATMENT IS JUST WHOLEHEARTEDLY KNOWING THAT ALTHOUGH THIS FEELS TERRIBLE RIGHT NOW, ITS NOT THE END. YOU’RE OK. TIME WILL HEAL IT. BE PATIENT.
And that right there, is one of the most important pieces of information I’ve ever learned in my life. Whether you suffer from panic disorder or not.
. Survivalism
Todays heaviness bore down on me from the very start. My mind was not built to cope with the type of punishments that I put it through and days like this worry me because I can feel the very last of my sensibilities giving way to much more devastating things.
Madness conveys its affections towards me,and whatever distasteful creature lurks in the dark attic of a mans soul, begins to figet in its chamber – behind my eyes.
These anxieties do not speak a single word and yet have the ability to convince all of my common sense of its inferiority and redundancy and so all logic leaves on its own accord, and what’s left is what you’d see of me on days like today; lowly, writhing scraps of a man.
But how could one talk down such a frenzy that knows nothing of any type of vernacular? Consisting only of a mouth that gnaws and hands that only rip and claw.
Living with a panic disorder is to continually be killed again and again and each time is different than the others. What then happens – after years of terrible exposure to this – a pathetic type of survivalism is born. A negative neuroplasticity. Faulty wiring. We grow accustomed to the fear and begin to subconsciously nurture and enable it. It sits within our gut like a wayward son that we care for through some unfortunate instinct and a moment without this mania is even more terrifying than the initial dismay. A days worth of silence is far too eerie. ….like that strange orange hue the sky takes on just before the tempest.
Something sinister is lurking just past the horizon. We know. So we learn to nurse this disgusting companion.
All of this builds an incredible amount of character – constantly fighting for your life. But a deep sorrow comes from the triviality of it all. Awareness that the battles we wage regularly, however endless, are not true. And the only soldier is the now frail voice of reason laying war-torn in the foxholes of a mundane daily routine. There is no honor in a war that no one knows of.
Only through some faulty destiny do we survive. Strong enough to endure this consistent despair in humble silence, yet not enough to rid ourselves of these useless endeavors.
.Fishtank
Picking up lunch today for work, I watched a fish push hopelessly up against a tiny glass tank inside a fancy restaurant. I guess as humans, we have a tragic knack for keeping other creatures contained and the sight of this caused a worm of regret to start tunneling away through my abdomain. I grew sick. I guess that I may have associated it too much to my current situation; Feeling like nothing more than just a charming decoration for something or someone that merely just appreciates your sacrifice.
If I was a mink or a fox, I would have been skinned and drapped over a prestigious shoulder blade at some upscale event and if I was a koi fish, I would currently be floating hungrily inside of a small, cloudy pond outside of some suburban home. Begging for mercy. But because of whatever chemicals, math, physics or deities designated me to this specific body and mind, I live here and I am me and this whole thing confounds me and twists my insides into cats cradles.
Of course I shouldnt be here in this restaurant feeling mirrored with a helpless fish. I should be somewhere lost in a blue ocean floating oblivious. But certain fates tower over me and rip me limb from limb.
I am perpetually flustered by the gritted teeth of a limitless sky.
I continually wake up to a tightness in my head, and in my lower abdomen and groin as if my organs are cowering into one another for safety and withdrawing further and further from the outside world. My head is weighted and foggy as if pieces of my dreams had stowed away from wherever I went to have them, and hidden somewhere on my clothing, they followed me back into my daily life.
I felt an insufferable desire to peel back 3 layers of earth to lay them gently back over my body and close my eyes and finnaly feel rested.
The familiarity of every day life, once delicious on my tongue as an ignorant child, is now sour, repugnant and unending.
An Introduction To Terrible Things.... 