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invisible.

3 Apr

I am begging for you to see me.
Maybe you do.
Maybe you just choose to look away.

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On being honest.

20 Jun

My mental health has deteriorated greatly over the past couple weeks.  It is to the point where I thinking I need to check myself into a hospital within the next 24 hours.  But then they will try and reject me because I am not suicidal.  But if it goes on any longer, I will become suicidal.  I just wish these people understood that I need help and I need it now.

I’m not okay and I am simply being honest and admitting it.  So please keep me in your thoughts and prayers because this is tough.

So Alone

9 Jun

I wrote the other day about my anxiety and depression.  I appreciate all of the kind words I have received in comments and emails from everybody… it means so much to me.  I didn’t write about any of this for attention or for pity-I wrote about it because I had to.  I had to admit to myself my struggles and make them more than merely internal.  And it was an unbelievably powerful thing to do so.  But it doesn’t end my struggle.  The problems that I have with anxiety and depression run so much deeper than can be expressed in one post, so I am taking some time to delve a bit deeper into some of those problems.  I hope you don’t mind (but honestly, I really don’t care if you do.)

Everybody knows of me as a people person.  I have a big heart and a passion for people.  But at the same time, I constantly feel alone.  No matter how many people I have around me, I am lonely as hell.  And I know I have great friends.  I know that people love me.  But that doesn’t make the loneliness go away.
I hate admitting things like this because, well, people don’t understand.  They don’t understand how I can know there are people who love me but yet feel completely alone at the same time.  And I guess I can’t explain it either.  But it is possible and it is my life.
Right now I live alone.  None of my roommates will be moving in here until school starts this fall, so I have the place to myself.  And most people would love this, but I hate it.  I feel completely and utterly alone here.  I hate the quiet.  I hate the dark.  I hate being alone.  And I know this sounds completely ridiculous of a 22 year old girl.  And it is.  It sucks to live a life where I can’t even enjoy being at home alone.  Hell, put me here and take away computer, phone, and tv for an hour and I would probably commit suicide.
I hate feeling so alone.  Because I know that I am loved and cared about.  But yet somehow I feel the same.
And when you couple this loneliness with terrible anxiety, it is deadly.  Maybe not physically, but my spirit is dead.  And that is what scares me.

Life with a Mental Illness

7 Jun

Most people would look at me and see your typical happy go lucky girl; a bit tortured, but all around positive.  Most see me as pretty simple, living a simple and easy life.  But there is so much that the majority of people don’t know.

This is the face of somebody with a mental illness.

I have suffered from anxiety and depression the majority of my life.  The depression comes and goes, but the anxiety never leaves.  I can’t go a day without a panic attack.  I can’t function as a normal person because of the anxiety.  It eats me up.  It makes life a living hell.

I cannot drive a vehicle because I am absolutely terrified.  It is not like a fear of needles where it simply sucks and you pass out.  It is the type of fear that causes hours-long panic attacks.  If I hear a noise as I am getting ready for bed that sounds even the slightest bit off, I find myself unable to sleep for the night.  I have panic attacks if I have to approach people and ask them for something.  When it comes to things like unpacking after my recent move, I can’t do it.  I look at it all and I start to panic and I shut down.

The list goes on and on.  I could give hundreds of situations that cause my panic attacks.  I could list hundreds of ways that my anxiety has screwed up my life.

These days my anxiety has gotten to its highest point ever.  I am a wreck.  I spend hours per day crying.  I take numerous showers per day.  (One of the symptoms of my anxiety is a feeling that my skin is crawling.  I constantly feel as if I have something-bugs or something-crawling all over me.  And I itch.  Everywhere.  The only way I can feel better is by showering and scrubbing til my skin is on fire.)  I am in a new apartment filled with boxes that need to be unpacked but am unable to do so because it causes panic attacks.

It is hard to admit these things here.  But I need to do it.  Because this is one of the only places that I can.  My friends may be able to listen to me talk about it, but there is nothing that they can do.  My anxiety is beyond the point of being able to be controlled by positive thinking.  And yet getting help for it is nearly impossible.

That is one of the huge problems with our mental health care system.  To get in to see a psychiatrist that can prescribe me something to help someone like me simply live life as a more normal person takes months.  And if you are without health insurance like I am, it takes even longer and costs more than is affordable (if you can find a doctor that will see you at all).  I am at the point where I am desperate for help, and yet I cannot go into a hospital because they will send me away since I am not suicidal.  A huge stresser in my life is my financial situation (extremely tight) and therefore I do not have the hundreds of dollars needed to go to appointment after appointment and try and get this straightened out.  And like I said, even finding somebody who will see me in a timely fashion due to my non-suicidal nature takes forever.

It is like so many things in this world-we aren’t given the ability to fix the problem until it is too late.  I am not going to kill myself.  I am smart enough to know not to do that and to know that it’s simply selfish.  But I am also smart enough to know that I am not okay.  I am smart enough to know that I should not have to live my life like this.

You know, I am a normal person.  I am a normal person with issues.  We all have issues.  The difference is that I am speaking out about them and most people don’t.  I admit that I need help to overcome these issues, but most people don’t.  And I don’t think that it is because nobody wants to.  I think it is because society makes things like these out to be bad.  Society makes people suffering from anxiety and depression out to be fuck-ups… degenerates… failures.  We tell people that they are not worthy of help until they are too weak to live.

People call these things mental illness, but I call it life.  We all need a little help sometimes, in one way or another.