Last night I came to a great realization, and it's been eating away at me all night and day. It definitely wasn't my Alexander Graham Bell moment, and I didn't dive further into the Great Perhaps, I dove into complete and utter self pity.
Now, I'm aware that no one likes a pity party but I have officially lost it. I was having a panic attack last night, because I am a hypochondriac, and that's when it hit me that I desperately need my dad. I realized that I literally have a mental need for him. Whenever I was having a panic attack I would call him and no matter what time it was he would sit on the phone with me until it was gone. When I lived with him, I would seriously crawl into bed with him and Kim - at 17.
Having a panic attack is the absolute worst feeling in the entire world, and being a hypochondriac on top of it, always convinced I'm dying, makes it that much more terrible. Something is always hurting or getting ready to explode and as much as my sisters try, they can't make me feel better. If anything I always feel worse. The last two days I've just felt like a low life, head case. I try and try to improve my life, to make it better and there is always something falling out of the sky and into my path. I have got to get a handle on this shit, because I simply can't go on living my life this way. It's eventually going to really kill me.
So that is my realization, that I am a complete failure and a head case. I need help, yet I am too scared to seek it.