sternbach (sternbach) wrote,
sternbach
sternbach

12/03/09

Sometimes it gets to be too much and I am suffocating in my own skin because I haven't writte about anything. Maybe my body knows. Maybe it knows that I'm choking on all these words I'm keeping forced down my throat and it's just trying to tell me to get them out. Maybe that's why I'm so sick. Maybe my body is just trying to help me out. Or maybe I'm just inhaling toxic mold spores and that's what's restricting my breathing.

The doctor said it was costochondritis when I first went in a couple weeks ago. Now I'm thinking it's something else. For the past 24 hours I have been in and out of consciousness in a state of delusion. I can't breathe right, my airways are way too tight and my chest feels like an elephant is standing on it. Then I start to panic and it makes it ten times worse. I don't know if it's stress related. I don't know if it's something in the air. I feel better when I go outside, most of the time, if I can make it outside. Today it was a hassle to even lift my arms. I feel insane. I hate not knowing what's wrong with my body. I am praying it's something simple like asthma and I can just get an inhaler and go on steroids and I'll be fine. My irrational mind is convinced I have some sort of tumor or incurable cancer. I'm barely eating because I can't move and I'm probably going to overdose on ibuprofen. Doesn't help that I have a cold and can't breathe out of my nose either. I just want to go home. Except for the fact that I am having incredible anxiety about that as well.

I am terrified that I will return home and have nowhere to fit in. That everyone will have moved forward without me. 99% of me knows that this will not be the case. That these people back home love me just as much as I love them. That we will fall back into our routines so easily. But I always expect the worst. It kills me to think about the possibilities that will most likely never occur. My negativity will seriously be the death of me.
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