I had another panic attack today. For me, a panic attack is something that comes out of no where. And anxiety attack is built up. Panic attacks reach their high point fairly quickly, then subside leaving you drained and crying. Anxiety attacks build up slowly, crying the whole time, and then slowly calms down.
This panic attack seemed to come out of no where, although it was caused by my forgetting to take medication last night. To someone who doesn’t know me, this attack looked like it was about something unimportant. Something that shouldn’t have even bothered me.
It started out as something small, why isn’t he texting me back? And it grew. It grew into the larger problem. The problem hiding behind my insecurities. My abuse.
I’m sorry, I said it out loud I don’t know how many times. I must have done something, something terrible. To be treated the way I have been, to be made to feel this way, it only makes sense that I had done something horrible. Right?
I have no clue what I did to deserve this. My logical mind is telling me I did nothing, it’s the problems of others. But right now, I can’t comprehend that thought. There must have been something.
What did I do? What in the hell did I do to deserve this?
To be told that I deserved to be raped.
To be told that I am worthless.
To be told I am a slut.
To be told to go to hell.
To be told that I am a bitch.
To be told that I am a worthless waste of pussy.
To be told I am a whore.
To be pushed down to the ground.
To have a cane thrown at.
To be grabbed by my hair and drug around.
To be led to believe I am meaningless.
To be told I am ungrateful.
To be told I do not care about anyone.
To be told that there’s no wonder I don’t have friends.
To be told that all of this was right all along.
To have it be as though it was proven to be true.
To be forgotten about.
To be cheated on.
To be lied to.
To be raped.
To be taken advantage of.
To be ignored.
What in the fuck did I do to deserve to be abused?
To be made to have severe panic.
To be made to have an illness that wants to kill me.
To be made to have a brain that doesn’t function normally.
To have to still suffer from things that happened years ago.
To not be given a life full of joy but one full of suffering.
To not have someone to hold my hand through all of this.
To be made easy to leave.
To be made to be put aside.
To be made to believe that hate, pain, lies, and abuse actually means love.
What did I do to deserve to be hated by many?
Where the fuck did I go wrong?
A woman can only be so strong until she breaks. I know I am not completely alone, but it sure as hell feels like it. I know I have support, a wonderful group of friends, but at the moment I can’t see that. I can’t see anything remotely good. All I see are the terrible things people have done to me. All I can see are the ways they’ve fucked me up. “You’re just a hot mess.” Yes, that’s all I am. A hot mess.