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Could someone talk me down? UPDATED.


I'm sitting it the student center on campus, fighting off a panic-laced upswing that's managed to slip past the large amounts of Tryleptol I take. It started with that oh-so-lovely punch to the heart feeling, and I found myself almost repeating words and phrases during a talk with a classmate.

So here I am, feeling like a raw nerve in a salt shaker convention. I'm paranoid that every little twitch I feel is going to mark me as a total utter fucking freak. And I still have at least an hour and a half before The Maternal One gets off work to get me home to writhe and border on screaming in peace and safety.



UPDATE: The worst of it is grazing over me, the ONE perk of being Rapid-Cycle.

And I, fuck, I just want to thank everyone for their support, advice, and ability to put up with my flakiness on what looked to be a relatively mellow GT day. Love you all, so much.

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