"Here I go Again"

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Today I misconceived a panic attack from a depression episode. 

Well, the sudden depression triggered the panic attack. 

Last panic attack, I was in the back of my mother's car driving to my grandparent's house when all of a sudden all my emotions hit me at once. 

I began screaming at her, sobbing, crying about all the reasons I believed my grandparents hated me. 

About all the reasons I believed everyone hated me. 

And I couldn't breathe. 

Most of these emotions were built by my brain, 

one piled on top of the other, 

they were constructed to kill me. 

I didn't let it. 

Instead of bottling everything up inside--as I usually do--I let them see the light of day, 

or well, the light pouring in from the windows on either side of me. 

That day, I had a panic attack. 

Today; however, I sat on the toilet in the bathroom, facing the door...

when all of a sudden I could see every demon in my head come to life through the smoke I inhale. 

I felt the pain they feed on, I felt the agony they carried, I felt

everything. 

But, it's a different kind of everything than what I feel when I have a panic attack. 

It's only sadness I feel. 

I'm not quite sure why, but I felt the pain of my great grandma's passing. 

I felt the pain of my first real breakup. 

I felt the pain of being left behind, 

left alone. 

And I couldn't even cry about it. 

I was too depressed to cry. 

That's the saddest part, 

for months I felt happy, 

I could cry when I needed to, 

I could enjoy going outside, 

driving around, 

blasting music and breathing in nicotine...

but now, I can't even do the one thing I'm good at, 

cry. 

That's when the panic set in. 

If I'm not good at anything, what is my life truly worth?

I don't think I'm worth anything.

But people say that if you find yourself in hell, you just gotta keep on walking. 

And I think I'll do that. 

I think I'll walk, 

because if there's one thing I've learned from my depression and panic attacks, 

it's that so far...I'm somehow still alive. 


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