Ready for a cheap escape

I have had exactly two panic attacks in my life. One right after 9/11 and one, inexplicably, at a Cake party. I believe a third is imminent.

Between work, the stealing of my identity and various other unhealthy obsessions, I am a wreck. I can feel the panic rising up into my throat. I can feel myself stop breathing. I can feel my head screaming at me to Just. Make. It. Stop. This is not a fun place to be.

Deep breath…

Deep breath…

I wish more than anything, that I was home in bed with a pint of ice cream, curled into the fetal position watching bad Lifetime movies. Just for a little while. Just until I calm down.

I'm taking a ½ day tomorrow to get my life in order. I've cancelled the Other Jessica's credit cards and put a fraud alert on myself in the event she tries to open any more. I have filed a police report and make a complaint with the FTC. I've gotten copies of all my credit reports and spent hours at the bank. There is still so much to do, though. And my bedroom looks like squatters live there. I stopped wearing makeup for a few days because my room was such a mess I couldn't find the makeup.

Deep breath…

Deep breath…

This day sucks.