Still, here I am, stumped with a paper and I have class tomorrow. Not so much because of that in which I have decided to skip attending for tomorrow’s session but because my brain seems to be so dead tired from thinking and absorbing all the wreckage that is my screwed up paper. And I need to finish yet another due on the same date (November 27, a Friday). So talk about complications.
A meltdown was already apparent last night that my hands were getting clammy and my feet getting cold, with a redoubling of anxiety that water has become bitter to me. Hence I tried to message the nurse-counselor that I have been in correspondence with for sometime now since everything was going haywire, with the knowledge that I could do something unthinkable again like harming myself in a fit of either epilepsy or the bipolar. Inasmuch as I was getting stressed to my core and shaken to my bones, breathing itself has become labourious with my head unable to take in all the amount of information that needs to be processed. I wanted to make sure about why these symptoms were occurring so I resolved to message the counselor on Facebook. I wanted out from the mess.
Eventually, we got to talk via cellphone where he gave me talk therapy (I would not need to elaborate since we spent almost an hour chatting: him coaching me about what to do, I helplessly trying to detail what I’ve been feeling for almost a month now concerning my dispositions and condition in life). He mentioned tips on how to go about an attack—he is an epilepsy patient himself—and shared his knowledge about what epilepsy has been like for him and what symptoms are present in my form of epilepsy so I could be prepared for any ensuing attack, specifically that which should address a lack of focus or memory loss brought about by an epileptic brain’s abnormal electrical currents. In addition, he also tried to counsel me about how to go about my bipolar disorder condition as it could be directly affected by my epileptic seizures. He furthermore suggested that I take note of my experiences through a mood diary which he says is also a means for therapy. After the conversation, I found myself empowered and ready to take a good night’s rest.
As I woke up today, I felt motivation tugging me at the soles of my feet that I sprang up to start the day as blissful and positive as possible. I wanted to work. I desired to read. However, there still lingered an amount of self-deprecation that I could not manage to think clearly. I still feel such even as I write this post and am still a little bit burdened. My struggle to write keeps me from accomplishing this darn paper due on Friday and my anxieties spike every now and then. Regardless, I still possess a tad bit of hope that later in the day, everything shall be fine and ready for upload.
So, I need to breathe in and breathe out. Survival is my foremost goal for now.