Alright, so here’s what happened…
Lately I’ve been feeling a whole lot of hatred and loathing. Not for others, but for myself.
I don’t know why. Or rather I didn’t know why. Now I do.
The person I had become was dying. My subconscious did something I didn’t expect. It more or less held a grudge match between myself, and my old self within a dream.
I wanted to kill my old self, but my old self won. Now there’s very little trace of the newer self left. It’s all gone.
As soon as my old self won, I came off of the weed. Just like that, started saying no to drugs. Which is something my old self did. Not the new one.
I haven’t had any anxiety attacks in 72 hours (knock on wood). I have ativan just in case, but I haven’t had to use any. I’ve still got the 6 I started out with. Just knowing I have that as a contingency gives me peace of mind.
I’ve gone from being scared of the anxiety, to borderline challenging it. I’m back in my “Alright, bring it on bitch.” state of mind. Which I guess is better than the other…
I had 4 consecutive attacks, followed by a nervous breakdown after the dream where my old self triumphed over the new self. Felt like all of these versions of myself were caving in on one another. And like I was trying to come out on top. Only no matter what, I was coming out on top. Just not necessarily that version of myself.
I couldn’t stop shaking, and I couldn’t stop crying. I felt like Humpty Dumpty. Like I fell apart and couldn’t put myself back together again.
Now that I’m calm and collected again I feel old. And I mean old… I don’t feel 20, I don’t feel 40 and I don’t feel 80.
I feel 1000 fucking years old.
The saying “you’re an old soul” has new meaning to me.