Luckily I have an awesome family who kept my head above water and refused to let me drown (metaphorically). They firmly pushed/prodded/dragged me to see a doctor, and I have now been on anti-anxiety/depression meds for 2 weeks.
Are they helping? I think so. I can get out of bed, and I don't feel the weight of the universe trying to smother me anymore. But the panic has not gone away in entirety. At this moment I am again fighting off another attack.
I still need to learn how to battle my triggers and defend against my own negative thoughts.
This is a strange journey that I never thought I would find myself undertaking. I am utterly terrified, and yet, because of the meds, there is a strange chasm between my feelings and my physical self that is very foreign. Which naturally adds even more to my fears.
"Curiouser and curiouser," said Alice.