No answer to the e-mail, sent I around noon. Another fucking attack. I did manage to cry a little after it, and during it, I was sweating. My mother even noticed how I appeared frazzled, sweaty, and altogether not right, though I passed it off as being out of shape. I guess that feeling better was a short-lived victory. I have to go back to work tomorrow too, and retail is a stressful job. I don’t know how I’ll manage another attack, especially during work, and parity lad given how one of the people who works on weekends is stressful to work with. All of these barriers and stuff I’ve set up in my mind seem too fragile. The thought of having to always live with this is frightening, but I guess it’s a reality I’m going to have to face. I suppose I was too complacent in thinking I was “better.” I actually feel like it’s ebbed a little bit right now, but it can come back in ages minutes if it wants to. I’m just getting sick of this; I’m gonna die from the anxiety and obsessiveness, oh look, I feel a little better, it comes back again. I’m tired of fighting and losing. Can’t even win by giving up. It’s just so crippling.