Birthings and Just plain Anxiety

Okay so I'm going to first talk about how much anxiety I'm going through at this very moment. It's because of a bad feeling I had last night in an almost perfect state of relaxation and contention. And it is currently back and driving the pit of my stomach, my center, crazy. To the point that I almost feel as if, it were to get any worse, that I would double over, crying, and have a massive panic attack most likely accompanied by a ten minute session of heart palpitations. Freaking a, I'm so stressed right now that I, not only want to puke, but want to scream my lungs out and just cry a million tears, over and over again. That or punch something. I'm doing my best not to snap at others and shit, but it's really hard to do such a thing when you're concentrating almost everything you have, on trying not to have a freaking anxiety attack. Seriously. My hands were shaking pretty badly a while ago, but now they aren't as bad, and to attest that is my lack of corrections needed with my grammar and spelling for this blog. And to make things a little worse is that I keep trying to breathe in deeply and I can't kind of like I can't access the deepest parts of my lungs, and it makes me feel like I'm going to fucking suffocate and pass out from lack of fresh air. Today has been so stress ridden for me, and I could really use a voice of reason that doesn't sound like Brittany at the moment. Preferably Elliott, considering it was my extreme worry for him today that brought all this on. I mean a nice talk over messenger would ease me a little, but even more so would a talk with him on the phone, all so I was sure he was okay... I don't think it will go away otherwise... I'm not even sure. I haven't had this much anxiety at one time in a long time. I'm not even sure I can talk about the absolutely wonderful dream I had last night, mainly because I don't think anyone would care at the freaking moment. Not that anyone wants to hear about my dreams, perhaps not even Elliott. Well if anybody actually does want to know... Then you're going to have to track me down and ask me yourself. Because I sure as all hell AIN'T telling you here. I'll just say that it had to with birth...and pain...

Whatever...

God, now I'm starting not to care, does anyone give a fuck? Fucking anxiety... I even took my freaking anti-depressants today, which held off the anxiety up until a few hours ago, when I had to finally set my PS2 controller down and stop playing Resident Evil: Outbreak File 2 (I was on the END OF THE ROAD stage, trying to beat it as YOKO) because I was freaking out way to fucking much and my hands were shaking too much and I couldn't stand it at all. And I'm pretty sure that I'm going to have a fucking nightmare tonight if this horrible fucking feeling doesn't dissapate before I get tired and pass out and end up sleeping. So basically all I have to comfort me at the moment is a fucking blog, which isn't helping me out very much at all. It's almost moot typing about the fucking thing happening to me at the moment. Ugh, I really do feel like someone has torn open my insides and is using a stick to twirl my insides up around it, like spaghetti on a fork. God, my whole center is radiating with this wretched pain, I do believe I'm going to cry soon...

God I need to go... no more... no more...

I can't fucking take this....

Ugh...

Inside...

So I've been doing some thinking. Unfortunately when this happens, nothing good comes out of it, or something good does happen but I still feel like shit for it. WELL, anyways... Back to business.

I've been thinking a lot about my relationship with Elliott lately. Like where is it going? What's going to happen in the next few months...weeks... years... I can't help but be consumed by this absolute dread that I feel in my heart. Like something terrible is going to happen. Like he's going to leave me, break my heart into many tiny pieces when I just finally managed to put it all back together. Ugh. Or worse, like the three fates will kill me before I get to even see his face, or worse kill him. I don't think I could survive another tragedy like that. No way in hell could I, and I know this for a fact.

And so here I sit, in front of my home computer, pouring my heart and soul into this little nonsensical blog, that I'm pretty sure no one reads, and basically fussing about it. I can't stop worrying, seriously. I guess that's probably because of my anxiety problems, or just because of the fact that I have been hurt in the past before. Sometimes I can't even figure it out. REALLY! And you would think, above all people, I would be the one person to best know myself. Well there's where you're wrong.

I've been stressing over everything lately. I really don't know what in the world to do anymore. It's getting rougher every day more I'm here on this planet. But no one said life is easy right? Agh. *grabs her head and shakes it* I'm not even sure if blogging is going to help me in the long run. Maybe I should just keep all this shit inside and in my black little book. That way the world doesn't have to share my pain.

Night.

Issues underlay my happiness....

So it seems, that every time I settle into the role of a King's Queen, or into the role of a good fellow's new girlfriend, that a new knight decked in armor and what not, comes marching along. And the shining gleams of his armor catches my eyes. This problem always arises, and it's driving me insane. I'm sick of new boys marching up to me and offering themselves and a relationship or bringing up old problems or what not, when I'm perfectly happy with whom I'm with. Sure in the past, the gleam or promise was enough to rip me away from the current relationship a few times, but now a days it utterly annoys me like nothing else. Especially the black armored knight named David Mueller. ARGH! Talk about enough confusion, problems arising, and stress to make me break down and want to pull out all of my hair with my hands.

That man is enough to drive me past the brink of insanity and into the depths of despair, all by himself lonesome self. DAMN! I've just about had enough of him, if it weren't for the fact that he needs some help in his life I'd be gone, but... argh. You know what? I honestly don't see the point in trying to point him in the right direction anymore. He's way past gone of the point of being saved by anyone. And yet, he says there are girls that want him. But hey, I wanted him at several thousand points in my life too, but then I woke up, opened my blind eyes to see what he really was. Bakemono. Monster. Manipulator.

Enough is enough. I'm officially calling it quits on that hope to saving just a little bit of him, he was too far gone the first time around anyways. Hear this David. It's over, you got your way, and now I hope no one gets dragged in like I did. Have fun, finding your own damn way without any light in your life.

I'm finally happy like I was then, or at least it seems that way, in a way or two. I mean, I can actually stand looking at myself in the mirror again, I'm painting, and hell above all things, I'm actually blogging or writing in my journal on a nightly basis. Can we say that Claire is finally healing? I'd strike that as a yes of great importance. Mainly, because I'm back to someone I used to be, in other's eyes, and in my own. Yes, I am still having anxiety attacks, bouts of depression, and times that suck, but overall, my mood has to be described as nothing but fantastic. Heck, I think I was even singing loudly in the shower today... Been a while since I belted out vocal progressions in the bath.

I had an anxiety attack today, it was god awful. I haven't had one in ages, and to top things off, I even TOOK my MEDS today, so I have no flipping clue as to why I was able to have a horrible anxiety attack. It wasn't like the ones I used to have, but still it was bad enough for my entire mood to be ruined and for me to have to scream into a pillow in order not to cry. I feel so bad for my boyfriend though, he had to hear my muffled screams, and deal with my frustrated person. I feel so incredibly bad now, it's not even remotely funny. Not that that would ever be funny, but meh. But this all came about because I had to finish several job applications, and I kept SCREWING UP! It was so frustrating that I distinctively remember chucking the pen all the way across the kitchen, where it proceeded to hit the garbage can, and then I tore up my applications. Talk about a bad two hours. All of that for nothing. Now this means that I have to go all the way down to the damn mall again and ask for more damned applications. UGH! Why can't more businesses have online applications, it's way more convenient and way more practical amongst other things. This whole looking for a new job thing is becoming way too stressful. Let alone, after I sat down and tried to get rid of my anxiety attack the heart palpitations started up. I normally have those now a days instead of stupid aggravating anxiety attacks. BUT NO! I had to have a damn anxiety attack and then as the attack calmed down I had to have palpitations as well! I mean come on! Give me a break, and not of that Kit Kat Bar...

So I channeled everything wrong with me at that point and sat in front of an empty canvas, and attacked it with my pallet knife and mixed oil paints. After several hours, which it should have taken less but a friend called to talk with me about his commissions and kiriban artwork that I am going to do for him, I finished. I swear to god that it looks like I ate a bunch of oil paints and puked them up onto the canvas. And so the title of it will be "The Sickness" as because I painted it when I was breaking down and having anxiety problems, guess the colors of my anxiety and worries are nasty ones. Pallet knife painting is quite fun, specially when the layers get thick and the paint thick too! But to say the least, I'm always happy with the outcomes of my Gesture paintings, after all they are pretty much paint guided by emotions in my case that is.

*yawns* I totally am not yawning and I'm totally not even tired, but I'm still yawning. >.> Not cool but hey, it's only natural is it not?

I applied to the area Petco on Sunday, via internet application. I applied because I figure if I have to take on a full time job, might as well do it in a job that involves something that I love and/or am passionate about. Petco being an animal and animal supply chain. Meaning I would get to work with animals and help people with animal issues and ect. Basically, I could really dedicate myself to this job with a great amount of excellence in my performance and work detail. I just wonder though, if they will even call me, mainly because I was terminated from my last job from missing too much work, all because of a chronic illness that and my previous work employers had a policy that stated I could only be sick three times maximum a year. Which is absolutely retarded, but I'm not really going to go into talking about that now.

Ever wonder why? Why? why? why?

Excuse my retarded mind butting in there. I'm just a little out of it, maybe, not even maybe. It's probably just me trying to figure out what to talk about next. *sighs* Meh...

So I pretty much feel a lot older than I really am. I feel like I'm about to turn thirty years old when in fact I have yet to turn twenty-one. I feel like if I don't marry tomorrow, and become pregnant later tomorrow, that my only chances will have had passed me by like a car on the street. It's scary at times, how much I feel like this. Is it because I'm just yearning to be independent already but am failing to do so in certain ways? Who knows really. Because you know, I sure as hell don't know. But still, it could always be that fact that my largest goal in life is to settle down, marry a man who loves me as much as I love him, and bear children to him. Hear little footsteps running up and down the hallways and to hear whispers of "I love you"'s for a long time. Is it okay to want this so badly, that I would do anything to have it? I mean... Is it really that bad to want this kind of thing? Is it bad to hope for some man to come along that will stay past three years, become my longest relationship, and then one day go down on his knees and propose? IS IT BAD? Because with all my heart, I hope that it isn't. That I'm not being silly at all for wanting something that is in fact really simple. Oh well, I think it's time for me to go to bed. Ja ne!