It’s been a little while, but I’ve decided to make a change here. The blog entry I posted about my panic attack from last year is now offline. I was tempted to delete it at first, then I thought about re-editing it, and I also thought about doing follow-up pieces in another form. I felt like I had to continue and finish it for closure, even re-editing the entry, but I just couldn’t get in the right headspace because things relevant to it still bring back memories of that night.

So I set it aside and got into TikTok to bring some much-needed levity. That gave me something to have fun with (and I’m still enjoying it), so I knew it was a good idea. At the same time, I knew I wanted to get back into blogging and go further with it, bringing this closer to how I originally envisioned it. I knew, though, that I had to do something with the blog post about my panic attack before breathing more/new life into the blog as a whole. It became a sort of elephant-in-the-room for me whenever I’d load the blog, and then I’d close the browser and do something else.

I didn’t want to delete the entry, but I also didn’t want to ignore it. That night changed my life in many ways and it still lingers whenever something triggers a memory relating to it. And even though it still hurts to think about the things that led up to it, I know that the big things it did that changed me for the better have helped me grow. The first few months after it happened gave me the feeling that this would be an important year of personal transformation for me; and it really has been. I’ve learned a lot about what I’m capable of, I’ve planted the seeds in reaching life goals, I’ve reached some of those goals, and have had to handle some curveballs (one being a recent car accident). I’m still learning more about how I look at things as a result, and have had more realizations about why things have played a part in my life.

And I learned that some people, who I once thought were friends, who I used to work with, didn’t think of me the way I thought of them. A good few of them are definitely keepers, and they have helped offer support. They seem to genuinely appreciate me, so I’m very grateful to know them and have them in my life. But the ones who made me feel distant at a time when they knew I was struggling and going through stuff, are not a part of my life anymore. I was naïve to think that they cared, and I was also too naïve to realize that they only seemed to humor me just so they could get me to cover their shifts. When I was hospitalized from the panic attack, many social workers (and a psychiatrist as well) all said that those “friends” are not the kind of people I should be around. And after returning to work for a good several months or so, I started looking at them differently. And not just them, but management as well. I started to feel another perspective shift as I would adjust to work and life. Everything I learned from the outpatient sessions helped me ground myself, but it also helped me identify why others make me feel a certain way and what to look out for.

Eventually (and recently), I left that job and have been looking for work since. It was earlier than I expected, but I have no regrets. The work environment felt not only discomforting, but toxic in some ways. And I know I’m not the only one who left for similar reasons. I was just glad to not be around people who I thought were friends at a time when, really, they weren’t. Out with the old, in with the new. I found people who do appreciate me, and I’ve really learned a lot about myself in the process. I learned what I’m capable of, the vibes I send out, the vibes I seek, the kind of life I want to live. Everything.

I’ll share more about this when it feels natural, and it will probably be very gradual too. This feels like the better way to talk about everything and anything that’s connected to the night of that panic attack. Thinking about and going into every specific detail in one entry really hurt, and it still hurt when I’d try to re-edit it. Scrapping it and talking about things like this is easier. What hurt me doesn’t define me, and even though I’m still learning about how trauma works and other coping skills, it never has to define me. It changed my life and put me through something that nearly made me want to kill myself, but I’ve learned from my therapist and social workers (and even a really awesome dermatologist) that I’m braver than I thought, and I’m better at reaching out now.

I can never ignore it, but it doesn’t keep me down. And I don’t give up.