I woke up to what I thought was a loud sound. My eyes snapped open and my heart was already racing. After laying there for a few minutes trying to figure out if I had dreamed the loud sound or not, I was overcome with a wave of heat. I pushed all the blankets off me and ended up going to the bathroom and throwing up. I went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and realized I was shivering. So I jumped back in bed for 20 minutes, curled up in a ball, and buried my face in the blankets.

Ever since this morning, I feel like my anxiety has bi-polar disorder. I will feel fine for a while, and then I’m anxious and panicked feeling. Then I’m fine again. It’s not consistent. And it’s triggered by the strangest things. The sight of certain cars, the thought of a mundane task like going into a gas station. My comfort right now is in the fact that I’m alone at work and no one is here to force me to interact or make small talk.

I also have a flight coming up in 12 days and every time I think about it, I feel like throwing up and jumping out of my skin. I literally want to panic – but at the same time I DON’T want to, because it terrifies me. What if I panic and it turns into an attack? What if I can’t calm myself down? What if I can’t get to my phone to call someone. What would happen? I try not to even think about it, the flight, or the possibility of an attack, but inevitably in doing so, I have the opposite result than what I desire.

On top of it all, there’s a huge possibility that a massive change is coming in the next year and the last time a similar “change” happened is when I had my very first panic attack that resulted in a 911 call and E.R. visit and while at first the possibility of this change excited me, I now realize there is a possibility of it scaring me almost completely to death.

I’d rather be depressed. I’d rather be so angry I want to light the house on fire. I’d rather be dealing with almost any other emotion than anxiety. I hate this feeling. I hate the sense of being trapped inside my own head, unable to escape, unable to change how I feel or my train of thought. I hate feeling like I want to scream and hold my breath at the same time. I hate the way my brain over analyzes every small fucking detail until there is literally nothing left of it but an image in my mind. The thing I hate the most, though? Not knowing why the fuck I really feel like this in the first place. Not knowing why I’ve been having nightmares. Why I isolate myself more and more the older I get, why I can’t manage it better and deal with things more maturely than just hiding under a blanket.

I should have seen this coming. I had a few days last week where I was really happy. Like, really happy. More energy than normal, motivation to do things I usually try to avoid, etc. Then all of a sudden I got slapped in the face with depression. Out of nowhere. I’m not even sure how it shifted gears so quickly. But it did and one day I found myself standing in my kitchen with tears in my eyes not knowing why. I should have paid more attention. Instead of trying to ignore how I felt and drown it all out by binge watching Netflix, I should have asked myself what was happening. Then, maybe I would have known this was coming. Like a third wave; anxiety always comes last, stays the longest, and causes the most damage.

All I can do now is wonder how long it will stick around this time.