Saturday, November 3, 2012

my heart isn't cooperating.

this is where i live. i walked here from my apartment. i am the luckiest human on earth.

Let me just preface this post by saying the past few weeks have been fucking rough. Like, put your hand in a door frame and just slam the fucker over and over again. But with my heart. Ok, maybe not exactly like that because I'm not really a masochist and so it isn't really like I've been intentionally harming myself emotionally, just, you know. 

Let's start over? 

I'm having a hard fucking time. So layer that on with the fact that I'm so in love with Montana and my life here that I could probably weep on command and shit gets a little tiny bit confusing. 

Anyway, I'm not feeling like a summary of my last few weeks is really going to capture anyone's full attention, so I'm just going to say that I honest-to-god think I'm developing a panic disorder. I've always known I'm a spaz, but now it's legitimately kind of scary. I'll be eating lunch with friends or sitting in class or taking a walk and all the sudden I am 100 percent convinced I'm having a heart attack. It's like I can feel all the veins and arteries of my heart squeezing and constricting and the blood trying to surge through just starts sort of gurgling and foaming. I am just sure my heart is going to explode. To just call it a goddamn day and poof, that's the end of me. I know, not a great visual. I'm sure that's not even what a heart attack is, but I never claimed to be a medical professional, just a person convinced I'm dying at increasingly frequent points in my everyday life. My friend Brie thinks maybe I have heart murmurs or something? I don't really know, I start thinking I'm going crazy and I can't hold it together, but to be honest, I'm not even sure what falling apart would look like in these scenarios. My crumbling into a heap on the floor? Going fetal in a corner? Running around screaming and pulling my hair out? It's really anyone's guess. It freaks me out.

So yeah, good times. 

That kind of thing doesn't really inspire me to connect with the folks back home or write for this little corner 'o the web, so there's your half-assed excuse for while I've been absent in posting lately. 

Anyway, life really is beautiful here, I swear. The mountains make my heart so happy. I haven't even felt so much as irritated at the change in weather, constant damp, virtual lack of sun, or looming darkness. I'm serious. This place is so magical for my soul that things which used to trigger terrible moods and horrible coping mechanisms no longer affect me at all. I'm just happy to be here. I went to Portland with a friend a couple of weekends ago, and even though Portland was awesome and I loved it, I kept thinking "I can't wait to get home. To Montana."  I have never in my life been happy to leave the place I'm visiting to go back to where I actually live. Never. I mean that completely. I practically skip to class and I have the liveliest of friends and I live alone so I obviously don't have to wear pants most of the time and I can eat in my bed whenever I want, so in the grand scheme I'm set.

I just, you know, worry and stress constantly. To the point where I feel like I'm dying and/or falling apart. 

On a side note, I'm pretty sure my upstairs neighbor is having sex with someone right now directly above where I'm lying in bed typing this. 8:15 on a Saturday night, nice. But I guess what does that say about me that I'm home to hear it? I've never heard this kind of movement from up there before, so if this is his first time getting laid since I've been here, then good for him. That's still one more time than me. 


  1. It sounds like you're having a panic attack! Therapy? Obviously a proponent of that :) Your life looks beautiful. I hope the other shit passes and you can fully enjoy what you're doing and the life you're building.

  2. You really do live in a beautiful place. I miss mountains and views.