I am having a nervous breakdown. Does it last for over 48 hours?

At least it feels like it. Or if my therapist is to be believed, it's a great sign that I'm crying and not shutting down because it means my brain is trying to process grief and emotions. 

To be fair, this won't be the first or the last but in a way, it's huge and significant and oh my god I can't breathe well. 

I think I need a sage cleanse. A tarot card reader, someone to blame for my problems would be good. 

One day you're writing in your journal how you are your own priority and everything has to happen according to you and the next you're breaking apart cause someone's son realises you might be a handful for him and he might have to pull the cord. 

For the most part, this is on me for not communicating and completely shutting down, dumping it inwards like it's great and fun and games. The fact that I am driving myself sick is probably known to 3-4 people in the whole world and besides my therapist, nobody really knows why it's driving me insane. 

A lot of it takes me back to my childhood, of keeping things to myself and going in over my head because the only reality that mattered was the one I was living; it didn't matter what was happening. 

However, this gets translated to a whole fucking anxiety attack as an adult, where you are second guessing things that may or may not matter—a good night text without an emoji, a morning without cuddles, side hug at the airport. I spoke to someone I trust with my life and they asked me to shut the fuck up and stop overthinking (as I should) but it's also good to pad yourself with a reality that nothing should be taken for granted and people can rescind affection for no rhyme or reason and that they don't owe you anything. 

Ah fuck, Roman Roy at Logan's funeral. Fuck. 

Also, I don't recommend Juggy D's Instagram in the middle of the night between a breakdown. It's insanely positive and you'll begin to wonder if there's meaning to life besides eating donuts and drinking water.