Solid panic attacks for four days now. The downstairs neighbor carries on at all hours. I keep waking up to hear him bellowing below; I can’t sleep, I am taking klonopin like tums because I can’t breathe. I had a weird akathisia reaction as I went through withdrawal from vicodin that led to a weekend of twitchy misery. (I think it happened the time before, too, but I had so many weird aches and pains then, it sort of went unnoticed. I figured all my joints ached because I’d just fallen down half a flight of stairs.) The living room fan is going full-blast to drown out noise from the hallway. Maybe I’ll move my fountain into my bedroom tonight, see if that helps with some nice white noise. I’ll definitely bring home my sound machine from work to drown out more noise still from downstairs.
I need to go talk to him and beg him to stop carrying on like that, but I feel like I’ll be going up against an angry bear. He always sounds so angry through the floor, and I don’t know who he’s yelling at. I know the TV is in their room; is he yelling at the TV? Or at her? I rarely hear her voice in the mix, so either he just rants and raves and she ignores it, or he’s not yelling at her.
I am missing so much work already. I hate myself so much right now. I feel weak and pathetic and miserable. I tried so hard to go to work today; after an hour of deep breathing and managing socks, I finally burst into tears and gave up.
I can keep fighting, though. There’s always tomorrow.