First anxiety attack of 2012. I made it one month, and two days. I've felt it coming for a few weeks now, in a sense I was prepared. Often they drop me like a sac of shit, and there is no chance of recovery or holding it back until I get some alone time. I'm glad I was alone this time; once that switch flips, I get ugly fast.

I used to think my feelings were normal and that I was not alone. Lately, I know I am a few screws short. I full on admit I can't get my shit together. I know damn well I am insecure in every relationship, and I know that I never fail because I quit before I even start. I am scared. I never feel loved; I never feel good enough; I never feel worthy. I run. I run from everything. And now I've metaphorically ran so far I have nothing left.

That's my story. That's how I feel inside everyday.

Adequately inadequate.


Please don't tell me to follow your blog, seek God, or suggest any other thing you might feel I should try. Trust me: I love God, I follow your blog and I practice yoga and I drink tea by the truck load. I probably didn't get hugged enough as a child.

Furthermore, I ask you to be kind to each other, we don't really know the battles raging on inside others.