Dear Diary

NOON

Panic.

Let the drugs settle.

Dad's home.

Breathe. Breathe, Jorj.




12:09PM

It only take a few minutes, in reality, for the first wave (and we pray the only wave) to come and finish. But those minutes feel hours long. Those minutes feel endless. In those few minutes, no matter how many 100 attacks you've survived and then noticed the clock had only let a few minutes pass...it feels like you're going to be stuck in this place forever. And could you imagine that?

In less then an instant, your chest is pounding too fast to count, your blood pressure drops so quickly you can't see straight, you're shaking cold even though everything under your skin is suddenly 30 degrees warmer then it should be. And you're crying. And the whole time your thinking, 'This is going to be forever. I'll never get over this. I am trying and trying and I can't get out!'

It's no wonder we cant, 'just relax' or 'you'll be fine' like the outsiders suggest.

You know they mean well. Actually, you know they're right, because you WILL be fine if you just hang in there and breathe. But at the time, 'relax' doesn't help, unfortunately. When someone is shaking and crying and stuttering and concidering just dying instead, 'relax' is most likely translated as 'please punch me in the face because I have no clue as to what you're going through!'

I could easily punch an offering someone. Or just a Peach Snapple, that would have helped right now too.

Huhhhhhhhhh.

My boyfriend sent me an email, "Morning and I love you!!! xoxoxo." Five words and a few letters usually isn't overly distracting..but from him, it is.