i had to write...i know you'll be mad

i had a panic attack to the likes of which i haven't had in years last night. it came on quick and took me away quicker. i should have felt it coming enough to recognize it but i didn't and this morning, my chest still feels as if i were kicked by the steel-toed, size 12 boot of a construction worker. every breath i take reminds me of all the breaths i couldn't take last night. the tears are still fluid even after a night of drying up and my body feels like the flu is trying to move in. my mind is trying to remember what it looks like to be normal so i took care of my hair and put on a gray sweatshirt and blue jeans but that's the best i can do right now. i'm making some strong coffee as i type to hopefully attack the fuzz in my brain but i'm not sure anything is strong enough for that this morning. i'm hoping for the drop of soap in greasy water effect but i'd settle for light breeze on a leaf covered ground...it'll get there eventually.

i have music on that reminds me of everything and nothing all at once and i'm stuck somewhere in between where i am and who i am, and i don't know how to move, and i don't know how to stay and i don't know anything these days--all of the energy i have left is focused on my little one; she's the only thing i seem to be wanting to focus on and the only thing i seem to be any good at, at all.

i'm trying to swim but i'm pretty sure i've already drowned but me, being me, won't admit that, i'll just keep swinging until i get knocked out--probably by something i've knocked off a shelf all on my own. and when it's all about you, how could you even imagine it might be about me? how can you see me when all you see is you? i keep changing and morphing and becomming to keep things and look at me...i'm a mess, but it's still all about you and all i'm not. i still keep hiding behind masks and changing my colors and i'm so far gone, and so deep down, that i don't know where to even start to get back out. like clawing my way through mud, slipping more than progressing, and it's my fault, and i know, but i hoped you'd do the same for me, the little things...not the big. i don't need the big. like way back then, when you were like that and when we met; but now, even deep in your eyes, you're not there and you fault me for still being there--i'm not still that person, i have become so much more, but it's not what you want me to be, so, it's not enough. but i can't change in this one way...especially after all of the little things i've asked for, for years, that you won't even sway gently my direction on--yet, you'll yell at me about my simplicity and complexity, all at once, and blame me for being difficult.
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i have nothing else to say. i'm just staring, listening to box car racer (will i shake this off, pretend it's all ok that there's someone out there who feels just like me, there is...), thinking that i've been online an hour when i only should have been here for 30, but i can't find the road...