You weather the storm, primarily by your own will, by your own tenacious dogged perseverance.

Photo by Illia Panasenko on Unsplash

October 13, 2019

I spend all my time fighting the depression. It’s exhausting.

I came somewhat close to formulating a firm plan last night. One involved just hooking up with a Tinder dude and hoping he’d kill me. The chances of that, contrary to what the media portrays, are very slim. The “worst” that can happen, in my extensive experience, is consensual anal sex. Blah.

Then I thought about driving my mother’s car off the road. Or off the third floor of the casino parking garage. But I figured the steel wires would hold me and I’d only be in trouble for being stupid. Again.

I had the panic attack of all panic attacks yesterday, in the Safeway parking lot. Some of Paisley’s family witnessed it. Crying, hyperventilating, no reason. Mom had to drive home.

I’ve continued to have panic attacks, out of nowhere. Mom frantically asking me what’s wrong, guessing at things that might have happened. “No, no, no,” I say. Trying to calm. Downing some Klonopin. Then more. Then more. She gets anxious I get anxious she gets anxious I get anxious. She doesn’t realize it, being deaf, she can’t hear her own breathing. She’s in the habit of sucking in her breath at the simplest things. Facebook videos…