What do you do when you have something you want/need to talk about, but simply cannot?
It’s something I can’t even talk to my psychiatrist about, just thinking about telling her, or someone makes my stomach into a ball of nerves. I can’t utter a single word.
I cannot write about it here, simply because this blog has not been 100% anonymous for quite some time. And another reason is the fact that I do not see the seriousness in it at all. But the only person I’ve told seems to have a different opinion on the matter.
I want to talk about it, to spill my guts, but I cant, I just can’t.
Please, please, just this once.
I’ve taken sick leave from work, everything’s just too much these days. Anxiety is over whelming, and constant.
It’s never been this bad, and its terrifying. I just want to be able to be calm and breathe. I’m exhausted. And when it’s like this, it brings me to the point of desperation where self injury and suicide is all I can think of. Back and forth from anxiety to self destructive behaviour.
Back and fourth, back and fourth.
My mum said that it was idiocy taking time off work because of it, but she doesn’t understand, or rather, she refuses to understand.
I just can’t seem to calm down. I’m even nervous about just stepping outside, right outside of the front door. I spend up to ten to twenty minutes trying to talk myself into it, but in the end, I do it. Which is a good thing right?
It’s gradually been getting worse, mostly work related, but there has to be more to it, right?
At work I just feel like I’m in the way, annoyance, no one really wants me there. All I hear is negative stuff. It makes me anxious, insecure and depressed. I have no idea what to do about it.
I like my job, I don’t want to quit, but my new manager is horrible, and I can’t handle her. Nor do I dare speaking up to her about it.
At the same time I feel like a failure, like it’s a weakness taking time off of work just because of anxiety and mental issues. Is it?
Because that’s how my mum looks at it. She just told me to go find a new job then. But I don’t want that, I like my job, I want to keep it, it’s safe, familiar.
What am I supposed to do?
Did I do the right thing?
If anyone has ANY tips on how to deal with this kind of anxiety, please leave a comment below, it would be greatly appreciated.
– Desperate –
First they want something, then they don’t, simply because something is spicy! Jesus Fucking CHRIST!
I’m not allowed to eat. They’re pressing on my stubbornness. I’m hungry, but they won’t let me eat. So fucking fed up!
What am I supposed to do about this? Eat they say. Don’t eat they say. All for the sake of attention. His attention. Which they’re not getting. Why? Simply because he doesn’t understand. This is their, and partly also my, cry for help. The only way they know of is by trying to get his attention, good and or bad.
I hate it so fucking much. My life shouldn’t depend on him. What I can and cannot do should not depend on him.
Their definition of other people caring is to get as much attention as possible. They want me to hurt, because then people will notice, and then care. Even though they’d prefer me ending up at the hospital with some kind of physical injury, because then people would care even more.
I’m just so tired of everything. It’s all just too much. I want out, but I want in. What do I actually want?
Oh, and another thing I realized yesterday, I don’t have any friends, none which I can talk to properly anyways. My family only cares when they want something.
I don’t even know what’s going on any more. I’m just done.
All I’m hearing is just overwhelming desperation from them ” We did something bad, why does he not give us attention, WHY DOESN’T HE CARE?!?!”
I’m just numb, don’t know what to think or feel any more. I want out.
I’m hungry but not allowed to eat.
I just want this to be over. Please.
Ugh.. I don’t even know why I’m feeling this low. Started the day with urges to self harm, and I hate it. Why can’t they just go away?
I don’t need them, nor do I want them. Why? Because I can’t do anything about them, I can’t cut or make myself bleed or bruise or break any bones, I just can’t. Not even if my mind craves it. It’s out of the question
While I’m sitting here writing about this, my mind’s trying to convince me that I do want to harm myself, that I need it, and It’s really annoying, because I can’t.
Another thing that’s bothering me is the fact that people are telling me that I might be Bi polar aka manic depressive. But i don’t really know. From what I’ve heard its when you have these MASSIVE mood swings, all the time or once in a while? I don’t know.
I’ve had depression (that I know of) for four years, and to me it hasn’t really changed, I think at least. But who am I to say? I’ve been feeling like this for years, so how can I notice if there’s a change in my always neutral or sad mood?
But I don’t know, because when I started on my medication, I was told that my therapist was certain that I wasn’t Bi polar, and the meds I’m taking (Fluxotine 40mg) would put a person with the bi polar disorder into the manic phases, so I don’t know what to believe.
I know that I have depression, that much is certain, but for some reason my mind keeps wondering if there might be something more to it?
But how can I know, they tell me I’m depressed, and I know I am, but how could I see the difference between a major depression and manic depression, if I’ve had one of them all along. Who knows.
Gah I’m confused.
Me: Please give me a break!!!
My mind: No asdfghjkl!
Right now I’m writing just to write, no particular reason to be honest, I kind of just feel like writing. But for all I know it could be a way for me to mak myself feel bad again, since I’ve had some alright- almost good night and part of the days, but I can never tell.
You see, I have two sides of me, one good, one bad, just like everyone else. But here’s where it gets tricky, they confuse me so much, because I almost never know which is which, like they have hidden motives. I sound suspicious, maybe paranoid, but I feel like I have to be like that with myself.
The time I stopped writing was because it hurt too much, which is fair enough, and one side of me told me so, but my first thought was that it was because it didn’t want me to deal with my problems, see my dilemma? Yeah I over think so many things way too much, I shouldn’t, but thats just me.
To me, my two sides are like voices in my head, well my voice with different motives, but you get what I mean. Its like the bad one, wants me to not think the good one is there anymore, so when I feel its too painful to write anymore, so I stop, that would be the good side wouldn’t it? Well I thought so too, until the other one opens its mouth. See why I’m confused?
Although my therapist tells me that the good side is very present, in other ways, which I don’t see or notice. Like she says I’m caring, kind and all that stuff, and I don’t know, it kind of made me realize that it’s still there, just not how it used to be.
I know I’m way too deep into the good versus bad thoughts, but what am I really supposed to think when one wants me dead and the other one doesn’t? Sure they both want to make me feel better, to get rid of the pain and the problems, just in complete opposite ways.
Right this second I just realized something; I wouldn’t have been here if the good side wasn’t present, would I? I guess not, so it must be there, there are no other explanation.
When your depressed, and lock in your feelings, refusing to feel them, when you start over again, you need to learn to feel them again, just like a baby, start all over.
I’m jumping from subjects, and sometimes I don’t even notice it before I’ve written five paragraphs about it, and I’ve heard it from people reading my blog, that they don’t notice the change of subject before they’ve read it all, strange isn’t it?
Before I wrap this up, I’d like to share some good news (:
I’m going to England to see my boyfriend for almost a week, 5th to 11th of October, and I’m so excited!
This is my 58th day harm free.
Well, this is my 53d day harm free, and its so bloody difficult. All since, I don’t know, 6 months ago, maybe more, maybe less, I’ve had problems eating, I just don’t like it, nor do I want to. I’ve lost 7ish kg since may, I think it was. And I don’t mind that, but I guess it really shows how little I’m eating.
It started off as sort of a replacement for my harming, I had a harm free period of time, weeks, I don’t know, and it just kicked off. I just didn’t want to eat, and if someone said I had to eat, I became more and more resistant, I just wouldnt eat. After that it’s just been getting worse, and I have no idea why.
These last months I’ve eaten alittle, once a day, maybe if I was lucky, twice. My mind’s giving me a hard time if I eat more than twice, “It’s too much, you’ve eaten THREE TIMES, it’s TOO MUCH!!!”
So I made a promise to my boyfriend, to do my best to eat twice a day, so I’m up to either breakfast, skipping lunch and then having dinner, or just skipping breakfast and lunch and having dinner, and then maybe have something small before I go to bed. Messed up, right?
Right now I’ve eaten three times, that’s three meals, and it’s hard, the feeling of food in my stomach, I don’t know why, but just the feeling of something in there, it’s gross, I can’t stand it. Yet I have to eat, I have to, if only once a day.
And I just don’t understand why it’s so damn difficult!?
I mean, it’s eating, its what humans are supposed to do, yet, I have a hard time with it, it makes me feel ill sometimes. It’s even been quite a few times where I’ve had to close my eyes when I pass the bathroom, because my mind wants me to throw it all back up again. But I haven’t, I don’t need that kind of problem on top of everything, I just don’t.
It just doesn’t make sense.
Sure I’ve always been disliking the fact that I’ve been heavy, not fat, just heavy, and I did not like it at all, so maybe it’s that that’s the problem?
I honestly don’t know, but I know that if I continue like this, it won’t turn out well.