Tag: //anxiety attack

selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist:

The key wasn’t in the lounge area. Where the hell could it
be? Carlos was getting frustrated as he opened drawers only to find drug paraphernalia.
He was getting frustrated with himself and he coughed, trying to suppress
another fit of sobbing. Carlos sniffed.

This was fine. It would be fine. He could just head to the
attic and find a nice corner. Maybe the other drifters wouldn’t bother him…

No, that was stupid and he knew it. Any sign of weakness
shown to complete strangers and he was opening himself up to getting assaulted and
mugged – even if he didn’t have anything on him. As much as he thought he
deserved it… some part of him knew that he’d regret it in the future. Either
that, or it was scared. Yeah, sounded about right… too scared to face
consequences.

A fleeting thought went through Carlos’ head and, following
it, he patted at his pockets. He realized that below the lump the underwear
made in his pocket he felt something hard. Carlos scoffed, unhappy with the
discovery, and reached in to pull out the key. It was in his pocket the whole
damn time. He must’ve looked like a pathetic idiot with how he’d been looking for it.

Carlos groaned and scrubbed at his face hard with his hands.
Keep it together… just keep it together until he could find safety in his… the workshop. He’d deal with everything
tomorrow. He left the room and went down the spiral staircase. He realized that
Neighborhood Watch was looking at him, but he kept his head down and willed for
them not to talk to him or ask him anything.

Once it became obvious Carlos wasn’t coming back, Hancock gave in to his urges completely, going through every chem stashed in his room that he thought might help him calm down, along with a second bottle of whiskey. Eventually, the ghoul ended up slumped in the corner, head hanging low and bottle still in hand as he drifted off.

Carlos made it to the workshop without incident. He supposed
everybody knew Hancock’s business was Hancock’s business. Once inside he
gathered up the blankets and some of the work cloths and started to make a sort
of bed in the corner. He’d been meaning to get a cot in there for when he
worked longer nights… he wished he’d done it already, but this would have to
do.

Carlos lay down and curled in on himself underneath his
labcoat. He spent a long time awake, just angry and unhappy with himself. There
were so many things he should have done… He should have done so much better.

Outside he could hear someone shouting. Some drifter being
thrown out of the Third Rail by Ham. Even further away there was gunfire –
probably from the Supermutant encampment. Carlos didn’t know when he fell asleep.

selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist:

Keep reading

Keep reading

The key wasn’t in the lounge area. Where the hell could it
be? Carlos was getting frustrated as he opened drawers only to find drug paraphernalia.
He was getting frustrated with himself and he coughed, trying to suppress
another fit of sobbing. Carlos sniffed.

This was fine. It would be fine. He could just head to the
attic and find a nice corner. Maybe the other drifters wouldn’t bother him…

No, that was stupid and he knew it. Any sign of weakness
shown to complete strangers and he was opening himself up to getting assaulted and
mugged – even if he didn’t have anything on him. As much as he thought he
deserved it… some part of him knew that he’d regret it in the future. Either
that, or it was scared. Yeah, sounded about right… too scared to face
consequences.

A fleeting thought went through Carlos’ head and, following
it, he patted at his pockets. He realized that below the lump the underwear
made in his pocket he felt something hard. Carlos scoffed, unhappy with the
discovery, and reached in to pull out the key. It was in his pocket the whole
damn time. He must’ve looked like a pathetic idiot with how he’d been looking for it.

Carlos groaned and scrubbed at his face hard with his hands.
Keep it together… just keep it together until he could find safety in his… the workshop. He’d deal with everything
tomorrow. He left the room and went down the spiral staircase. He realized that
Neighborhood Watch was looking at him, but he kept his head down and willed for
them not to talk to him or ask him anything.

selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist :

Keep reading

Keep reading

Carlos spent so much time just sitting in the tub. As soon
as the door was shut he dropped his face into his knees and just cried. However
he still tried to keep quiet – he didn’t want his voice to carry through the
entire Statehouse because it would just make it awkward for everyone. Why was he even here? He should have just perished with the
rest of his team all those months ago. He didn’t really have a choice on the
matter, but maybe things would have been better. Hancock deserved someone
better – someone more worth opening up to because Carlos just fucked it all up.

It felt like hours and Carlos was already feeling exhausted.
He needed to get out of the tub – he couldn’t just sleep there. And Hancock
would need to use the bathroom at some point. Slowly, almost like he was a
Protectron, Carlos got himself out of the tub. Nobody was there to watch him,
but he still kept his head down and dried himself off as well as he could with
almost numb motions.

He hung the towel back up and drained the tub. He got his
clothes back on – the dirty ones – and gathered up the underwear he grabbed for
both of them to shove in his pocket.

Carlos quickly rubbed at his face and took a long,
shuddering breath before he opened the door and stepping outside. He almost
expected Hancock to be standing outside or in the lounge waiting for him, but
Carlos halfway relieved when he didn’t see him. But he was also half-way
disappointed.

Probably for the
better, he told himself as he looked for the key to the warehouse. No, it
wasn’t exactly his own place – nothing out here was – but it was away from
Hancock, and hopefully someplace that the other man wouldn’t need to go to any time soon. Carlos had a few blankets down there in his workspace… he could spend the night. Maybe a night alone would help him function in the morning. Where was that damn key?

selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist :

Keep reading

Keep reading

Yes, this was a
bad idea. Carlos couldn’t believe he’d have thought that this would have gone
smoothly. God, he was such an idiot. He should’ve known better. He didn’t know this would happen, but he should have
known better!

Carlos fought not to flinch again under Hancock’s touch. He
needed to be alone… he needed to be alone. Silently, he nodded to Hancock,
still unable to see anything through his tears, much less look at the ghoul.

im not sure how to word this (im probably overthinking again) but i cant sleep.. like… at all… and just cgfhjjknbvghjuytgfdgyhuikjnhgtfrdscfgvhyuiolkjbhb

((is it because your thoughts are moving too fast? A trick I learned with trying to sleep – it helps sometimes – is to not to try controlling my train of thought. When i’m laying down i just let it go wherever it wants to. It takes practice, definitely, but it could help to just let your thoughts go wherever and to try not to focus on one topic.

I was just reading and WebMD suggests maybe getting up for just a bit to go to another room and do something unexciting, like reading or listening to some music. There’s some other suggestions in the link too, if you want to look.

Part of the trouble is the computer/phone screen you’re looking at too, I”m sure. There’s millions of lit-up pixels staring you in the face and your brain is trying to process all of them in the middle of the night. I’m not saying this out of meanness, but I think you should put your phone or computer down and sit in darkness to help your brain have less to process.

I’ll be home from work tomorrow, so I’ll be around my computer if you want to message me again tomorrow. I promise if you do I’ll answer you as soon as I see it.

p.s.- ‘meanness’ is apparently a word – who knew.

crying, laying down, wishing it wasn’t so dark so i could get my glasses from across the room, hoping im not waking my two friends up with my typing at 1:54 in the morning, hoping that my friends don’t hate me/have forgotten about me.. ya know, the usual —

((I see. I think you should try sleeping. Sleeping’s a great way to process some of your emotions through dreaming, and after having anxiety it’ll be great knowing you don’t have to do anything right away.

I know this is hard to believe – especially coming from me, someone you don’t know – but I’m sure your friends don’t hate you. That is the anxiety. Some would call it a ‘Deceptive Identity’, which is something that you tell yourself that is untrue. Anxiety and depression has a funny way of bringing out all the nasty, impish thoughts that appear.

If you can, go get a drink so you have time away from a computer/phone screen before you try to get to sleep. Its okay to go to sleep – it’ll help you. Okay?