It's been a rough couple days.

My grandma died early yesterday morning. I got there two minutes too late. I then went straight to work. My panic attacks have been coming back. At work. It was all I could do to resist my manager taking me to the emergency room. I'm ashamed to go back in tomorrow. My ex physically moved on. I found out when I called him for help coping with my grief. I need to be supportive for my family members. My days have been hectic and planned down to the minute. Work made me literally fight for my day off to go to the funeral. I almost quit. My best friend's out of town and unreachable. I probably haven't been confiding in the most appropriate family member. I haven't slept more than two hours per night the last 3. I drink too much. Way too much. I can't quit smoking.

And the scary part is it could get way worse and I can hardly deal as is. I guess this is supposed to be one of those times where you're supposed to realize you're insufficient by yourself and you're supposed to turn to God.

Then, God... help me do so.