Maybe at the end of the day, it doesn’t go away completely.

I really wish I could tell you that it goes away. But two nights ago I had a revelation that maybe it doesn’t. You will definitely get better with time and a good support system, but I guess it haunts you in ways you would least expect it. 

I thought I was done with the panic attacks, but I had an episode on Sunday night. It came randomly and honestly there was no psychological trigger, I wasn’t thinking of anything really but sleep, and it just came. Thinking back it was probably physiologically triggered, I was feeling quite hot and it was a bit cramped, and it just came.

I couldn’t really identify what was happening, but I suddenly broke out in cold sweat and I felt breathless and my heart really hurt. I wondered if I was feeling insecure and maybe I did partially. Got up and drank some water and walked around, I even did the diaphragm breathing shit that my psychiatrist taught me but it wouldn’t stop. Went to find a pillow hoping it would provide me some comfort but it didn’t work. 

Suddenly had the urge to puke and I just vomited everything out. Felt better after but I woke K from the noise and I felt bad he had to see me in that state. 

I’m just glad I don’t get such episodes often. I’m so much better than before and I’m thankful for that, but the realisation that it will still find me sometimes still hits badly.

It’s okay to not be okay.