#talking about panic attacks

[maerenee930]

random thoughts.

kinda like venting/mostly just getting some thoughts and feelings out that have been bothering me lately 😣

i do talk a lot about anxiety, btw! and i mention panic attacks and i talk about my depression. just wanted to give a heads up incase anyone does actually end up reading this rambling nonsense lol.

ooh, i also do swear quite a bit.

my anxiety is so unbelievably high 😖 like holy fuck!!

i feel like i’m actually crazy 😞😭

i mean like between my new job and just my generalized anxiety and some other things, i just feel like a damn mess lol.

but like for real though 😓

my anxiety keeps making my chest tight regularly.

during work, when i’m on my way home from work and when i get home. i’ll just be trying to breathe and relax and my anxiety says “NOPE!!” and makes me feel so very close to having a panic attack.

i feel so fucking stupid 😭

i feel so goddamn fucking dumb for letting my anxiety get the better of me. and because it’s happening regularly/so often! it’s like just fucking get your shit together for fucks sake!

and then because my anxiety has been so bad/getting worse, it’s starting to mess with my depression and making it worse and i just wanna run away and need a break from my brain 😭

i do like my new job, btw! like i do. it’s just so different and not like anything i’ve done before and it’s really far out of my comfort zone so it’s just still an adjustment, you know? 😣

and what’s not helping my anxiety at all is that after this week, i’m not gonna be with the person who’s been training me. they’re moving to another department 😣

and i’m very happy for them! i mean they’re going to somewhere they’ve wanted to be for a while now so that’s so awesome for them! i just have gotten so used to like being with them or having them by me and i’m not ready to not have them by me, watching over what i’m doing or reassuring me/reminding me that what i’m doing is correct and i’m doing everything in order or right.

i’m not ready to like not have them there right by me and can remind me what step comes next or help me when i’m still very unsure of myself 😓

but at the same time, it will be kinda nice to not have someone watching over my shoulder 😅 i mean i will have someone watching over my shoulder next monday cause one of my supervisors will be with me and helping me out cause monday specifically is supposed to be pretty busy, but then after that i’m on my own.

i’m very fucking terrified, extremely nervous, and kinda excited to be on my own. i just really wish i wasn’t on the front line 😅 i don’t like it, like at all lmao! i much prefer being in the back/in the drive thru lol! but all next month i’m scheduled to be on the front line 🙃 i’m really not looking forward to it 😣😓 but hopefully my supervisor will schedule me to be in the drive through more soon 😅

i have so much more i want to say, but my head is all over the place right now and i feel like i can’t focus on each of the thoughts long enough to get them out. if that makes sense? so maybe i’ll add more to this later or i’ll make a new post. idk lol.

fuck i feel like i’m gonna have a panic attack 😖😭

i really fucking hate this feeling 😭😭

[ianitegal56]

I saw Godzilla Minus One and he is quite literally one of god's silliest showa scientists

[collophora]

TBB cadets ideas

[purplecatghostposts]

Rewatching Risk and thinking about how genuinely freaked out Félix gets when he sees Emilie in the basement. That’s not just his aunt but someone who looks exactly like his mom. He bolts the second he sees her and it honestly looks like he’s going to make a run for it out of the house before Nathalie and Gabriel find him. You can see him floundering a bit to act like Adrien again before he regains his composure. I just. AAA. I love this episode. It’s the definition of ‘Fucked around and found out’. Félix was prepared for a lot but NOT finding the basement.

[manekijinx]

Sleep Paralysis.

Vaguely inspired by this unfinished fic.

[shreddeddescent]

little ritual for when raph is having his turtle-egg-related-period.

i dont wanna present this whole thing as if splinter isnt a really kind mother. she has moments of being wonderful. raph absolutely would not have survived without her

[silverskye13]

for the hurt comfort promt thingy: Helsknight or/and Tanguish suffering from the aches of living (getting sick, having a migraine, panic attack, painful cramps, etc) and enjoying the others company whilst suffering.

It hits at odd times, but once, before every match, inevitably, Helsknight has a panic attack. The funny thing was, he never really knew that's what they were for the longest time. There was a disconnect between his mind and the reactions of his body. He would think about the match. He would think about losing. He would think about how that could come about, what would most likely happen. All the terrible little scenarios. It probably started as something more productive, running bad cases through his head and trying to imagine ways to counter them. Then the shakes would start. And the buzzing in his ears. The sudden, blinding desire to break something, or pace in circles. The inability to move to vent the reckless energy.

The sudden, piercing silence of mind; the resounding, thoughtless emotion of danger.

This one happened at another odd time. A quiet time. A time he should have been at peace, but wasn't. He was sitting in his cell, writing. Carding through words and phrases. Not a speech, just possible rebuttals for Red, when they inevitably shouted their grievances across the sand.

The thought struck him: [Would he say something if he was wounded? Dying, maybe, if he could feel that coming? Should he prepare something for that?]

Helsknight scratched a few quick tally marks on the page, doodling neat rows of lines as he tried to think of something worthwhile to say, in the event Red got the upperhand.

The thought struck him: [What would it look like if Red won?]

Helsknight was a vicious fighter, confident in his skills, and EB had engrained in him the necessity of fighting dirty. Not dishonorably -- no kicking sensitive places or punching stab wounds. But sometimes one had to give in to the necessity of ugly violence for survival's sake. Biting, clawing, wrestling.

Red would have to disarm him somehow. If Helsknight had a weapon in his hand, he would find a reason to fight. Once, he killed a rampaging hoglin with just the broken half of his sword. Granted, it had [thankfully] shattered with a sharp end, so it was mostly an unwieldy dagger, but still. It hadn't been a real weapon anymore, and Helsknight had used it.

So, disarmed. Maybe literally. There were a lot of things Helsknight could fight through, but dismemberment was one of those he didn't like his chances against. Losing a hand in the Colosseum had a way of halting the momentum of a fight quickly. Helsknight did not think he would just lay down and die though. Probably Red would stand over him with that massive ax -- Helsknight could see it in his mind's eye, the way Red squared up to people like they were a tree he was proud to fell.

[Red never aimed for the neck. He thought beheadings were cruel, given necks were thicker and more tenacious than most people gave them credit for, and blades had difficulty when bones needed severed. It would be a swing that came for major veins and arteries. His shoulders. His chest. His legs.]

There would be a lot of blood. There might be less blood, if Martyn was still up when it happened. He would spare Red the kill, and his knives were keen and his aim was good. The throat, the eyes, up beneath the ribs, if he could find a parting in Helsknight's armor. And then...

... Nothing.

Respawn, maybe.

Or. Maybe not.

[What would it feel like, when he went back to Wels?]

It would feel like... Nothing. Because there would be nothing left of him to feel. It would be dark. It would be quiet. Logically, it would be like sleep. Timeless nothing, with no dreams and no waking and...

Nothing.

The End of Everything.

It was silly to be afraid. He could not feel fear in oblivion. There would be nothing left of him that could feel fear.

[What would Nothing feel like?]

[Nothing.]

[It would...

[it......

[

[

"Helsknight?"

Helsknight blinked. And he blinked again. His eyes felt dry and itchy, like he was staring too long. His notebook was still open to a half-written page.

His mind was watching an ax swing.

Tanguish's weight was suddenly on his shoulder, arms crossed, looking over at his work. The touch reminded Helsknight, in no uncertain terms, where he was. Not on the sand. Not on the broad end of an ax head. He was in his cell, writing, and Tanguish was here.

"You've been staring for a while," Tanguish observed, his voice quiet and close. He had a habit of talking softly into prolonged silence, like he was afraid of trespassing on someone else's thoughts. The rise and fall of his chest against Helsknight's back reminded Helsknight to regulate his breathing. One deep inhalation after another.

"Do you not like what you've written?" Tanguish persisted.

"No," Helsknight answered, his voice hoarse and strangled in a throat constricted with baseless fear. "I don't like it."

Tanguish watched him, a frown twitching at the corner of his mouth. "Are you alright?"

Helsknight cleared his throat uncomfortably. He felt... Shaky. The need to shiver crawled up his back, and he had to set his jaw to stifle it.

He realized his jaw hurt. Had he been grinding his teeth?

"I'm." [He could not lie.] [He could not admit he was panicking over nothing.] [He didn't want to talk, when nausea suddenly made any emotion leaving his mouth a perilous task.] "Having a hard time coming up with things to say."

His quill was still in his hand. The last few tally marks he has traced on the margins of his page were noticeably jittery. Trying to pick them out from the crowd suddenly had all the little lines blurring together, dancing over top of each other. His heartbeat was too fast beneath his breathing, and he could feel every beat like they were done with intention, like if he stopped thinking about it, the muscle would slow to a stop like any other unused limb. His fingers twitched.

"Have you tried rereading your old work?" Tanguish suggested helpfully, he leaned forward on Helsknight's shoulders, reaching over to the book and turning to a random page nearer the front. "You probably have a dozen good lines here you've forgotten about."

The page Tanguish had opened to was a poem, written a few weeks ago when Helsknight had been idle. He let out a breath, cold against the back of Helsknight's neck, delighted.

"Is that one new?"

"New-ish."

"Can I read it?"

Helsknight laid his fingertips flat against the desk, trying to calm the shudder in his hands. If Tanguish noticed, he didn't say anything.

"It's best if read aloud," Helsknight said, because he realized, somewhere in the back of his mind where rational thought was slowly crawling its way forward, that Tanguish's voice was grounding. Forcing him to recognize the moment, and stay there, and away from perilous thoughts. "Give it a shot."

Tanguish chewed on his bottom lip, suddenly nervous. His tail flicked, a motion that Helsknight felt in the jerk that traveled up Tanguish's spine. He eyes Helsknight's cramped handwriting, and let out a long breath. Helsknight let his breath out too, unaware he'd been holding it.

Tanguish read the poem aloud, wandering through stanzas with reckless abandon, ignoring punctuation like it didn't matter for meter and time. He read the poem like it was prose, one word after another, inflectionless, besides his own reactions to the alliteration.

Helsknight sighed, and welcomed the relief when his hands stopped shaking.

"You're good at that," he said, when Tanguish was done. "Read another?"

Tanguish smirked, aware of his own fumbles. But when Helsknight turned the page with hands that no longer shook, Tanguish humored him.

Helsknight let his mind rest.

[allmightyscroll-swag]

Panic Attack

(QUICK THING BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE- I added an aftermath to the last comic that is kinda needed to properly understand this one, & just in case some of y'all haven't seen it, just go to "←prev" down below and it should be properly linked up )

← Prev Next→

I like to think that, while Leo has seen & helped Donnie through panic attacks before, Donnie has rarely, if ever seen Leo go through a panic attack; hence why he is unsure what would be best to help Leo right now. so he does what he knows how to; relay information and facts. His voice helps ground Leo through it.

[rynli]

me: I should write the one-shot that lives in my head about Harry applying for a job

brain: you will write a whole casefic about Harry realizing being a cop already killed him once, acab applies even to Kim, and he needs to quit if he wants to get better

[sydcarmyfan]

When did Carmy realize that he is in love with Sydney Adamu?

[frogwithastrawberry]

What if after crawling out of the harbor Kaz made sure he knew how to swim, and how to swim with extra weight, because he didn't ever want to rely on someone or something else if he ended up in the water again.

It's one of the things that started the rumors that Dirtyhands wasn't human. Fisherman would see him walk out to the docks in the dead of winter, fully clothed in his coat and all, and then dive into the water, no matter how rough it was. They all assumed that he was dead, because no one ever saw him get out of the water, yet he was always back the next day.

They assumed that he would stop when he broke his leg and started using a cane. But he didn't. They watched the scrawny kid, cloaked in mercher black clothes and a heavy wool coat, limp down the dock, take a deep breath, and jump in the water again.

At some point someone suggested he might be a tidemaker, but no one ever saw him control any water. He'd just dive in. And it's widely known that he wouldn't have made it this far in life if he was using tidemaker powers visibly. So they all just assumed that Kaz Brekker was a non-human entity incapable of dying.

[spaciebabie]

at first getting diagnosed with cptsd was like, "yay my trauma has been validated (it always was valid)!" and i really thought that was going to be it, but then i started to do research as i do whenever i realize i have something and learned that!! the way i experience socialization is!! quite horrid actually!!

[greenlantrns]

You don’t actually have to share the ‘bad’ parts of your regression btw. It’s okay to create a space to appreciate the good parts of your regression without dishing out your trauma to strangers on the internet.

[lets-try-to-be-normal-otakus]

Steddie fic where steve gets possessed (upside down, demons, etc.) who try and wreck his life and relationships? But it has none of his memories cause either 1) Steve ain't letting it happen 2) x entity doesn't have that power. All it has to go off of is emotions? Cue possessed!Steve meeting Eddie and breaking up with him to harvest more chaos, only

Steve and Eddie aren't together

P!Steve: "It's you, not me. I just don't love you anymore" <feeding off emotions

Eddie: ...

Steve: aw shit

P!Steve: *contains malicious chuckle*

Eddie: ... what?

P!Steve: Ik Ik, I still want to ravish you, but I can't! We're over, I'm breaking up with you. I hope you never get over me and think about my face on every pretty boy you fuck

Eddie: *//_//*

The demon/UD gets found out pretty quick.

[the-amazing-spider-bi]

reading a game of thrones and fuck. robb doesn’t get to be a narrator (he’s lyanna stark he’s the dead girl in the pool he’s the narrative’s most special ghost) but he barely has to. we’re watching him from every point of view but his own. he’s the lannisters’ second thought, a teenager pretending to be the man his father was. he’s jon’s best friend, his older brother, the guy he compares all the others to, snowflakes melting in his hair forever. he’s catelyn first son, it was just the two of them for so long, her boy who looks like her but takes after his father so much it aches, and yet is never like him quite enough, a boy soldier leading men to war when he can barely grow a beard. in private, he listens to his mother’s lessons about command as if she was a school teacher, blushes when he gets the answers wrong, then he earns the lords’ respect in public, like he is older than his years. her son slipping between her fingers when he’s right here.

but most of all in the first book we see him through bran. he’s lord robb, who commands his men and fights wildlings and only has to say one word for his wolf to rip an attacker’s fingers off. he’s robb the brother, who comes into bran’s bedroom in the evening to cry because he’s scared, actually, he’s so scared that he’s going to die, that he has no right to order all these people to die for him, that his father isn’t here and he went south and starks never come back from the south, and now he’s the fifteen year old boy on the throne of a war hero with no idea what he is really doing. he’s scared and he does it anyway. ned tells us very early in the book, after the execution, that it’s the only way to be brave and we don’t know yet that he’s talking about his son. robb haunts the narrative and he’s not even dead yet

[brucewaynehater101]

Overwhelming Emotions HC: Tim, Jason, Dick, and Damian

TW: dissociation, panic attacks, unhealthy coping mechanisms

Tauma, upbringing, culture, parenting, and experiences will have varying effects on how one processes and expresses emotion. Not all coping methods will be healthy or deemed socially appropriate. Here's my hc on how their circumstances affected how they deal with overwhelming trauma.

Tim is used to locking down his emotions. When it gets to be too much, he literally shuts down. He'll stare at walls for hours as time passes, be unable to move, and experience difficulty with speaking

Jason has panic attacks. He isolates himself, breaks things, and mentally spirals for hours if not days

Dick will fly off the handle with rage, clutch his hair as he rocks back and forth, and cry hysterically

Damian will flip between intense anger and dissociation. He will either lash out, or he will slip into depersonalization not being fully aware of his own body