Sometimes you feel like you're superwoman. You're doing well and you're happy and you feel so much better. You think you can tackle your goals and it will be fine.
But then you take that leap and realize too late that the ground is coming up way too fast.
I've been running on adrenaline all day, which is something that people with disabilities do sometimes. You don't have the energy for it, but if you run at medium speed you can keep going and going until the end. What happens when you stop though is that you crash.
It seems funny to me that Superwoman could be taken down by a simple square cake, but alas.
After the panic attack all I could feel was this heaviness. And now I want to sleep, but knowing anxiety, I won't be able to for a long time tonight.
It would seem to me that my depression/anxiety is trying to make a statement to me: Don't expect to be happy for long, because I'm still here, and I will make sure you realize that.