Oh MAN, the gym is not fun after a sabbatical. I actually felt my body laugh at me when I increased the treadmill speed. Truth is, I haven't jogged since my vacation last month.
Ok, the actual truth is I haven't stepped on a treadmill since May. The worst, least motivating time at the gym is when you've been off for a few months eating whatever's come in contact with your face. Mind. Out of. Gutter.
My lack of exercise might be the cause of my newly-discovered anxiety attacks. They are not fun - completely uncontrollable. Completely unphased by booze (which I depend on for most pains), sex, laughter, cigarettes, mantras, or mind distractions. The only cure is waiting them out, which is a little awkward in the presence of people who want to have fun. It starts with a tightening throat. This is easier to notice if I'm drinking, since the liquid doesn't go down without a lot of force. Then, my lungs refuse to absorb oxygen, no matter how deeply I inhale. As a result, my hands start shaking. My heart pounds. I break into a sweat and my forehead feels numb. Wherever I am feels like the worst place I could be. My very soul chokes while my body tries harder and harder to breathe. There isn't any mental capability to escape somewhere else. I'm just...stuck.
Although it feels like my life is finally getting back on track, I'm experienceing more anxiety attacks than usual. Explain that shit.
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