Take me seriously .. !

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 –


Anxiety and stuff ..

Yup, that’s basically what my life evolves around at the moment. Anxiety attack after anxiety attack.

And I don’t even know why or what could be causing them either. And its frustrating.

I can have up to five, at least, a day, without even leaving the house. Its mad.

That’s a kind of new experience to me, even though I’ve had a few over the years, but not as intense or even close to as often as now. But the weird thing is, whilst I’m at work, I’m completely fine, no anxiety at all. But the explanation that I’ve come up with for the absence of the anxiety at work is routines.

When I’m at home, I have no routines at all, and I am completely unable to stick to any sort of routine, no matter how insignificant or small. I just can’t stick to them.

Sure I can try to make a routine, and do so for ages, but I tend to fall out of them very easily.

On another matter, this sunday, october the 28th, will be my first year harm free. (read: almost) I had two minor slips, even though I did not cause any permanent damage. (read: sadly)

But the thing is, I cannot really tell if they really were slips at all, I mean, sure I meant to cause myself harm, once with a plastic band continuously slapped at my wrist until I swelled up and bruised, yet no blood had been spilt. The second time was with a beer cap, I kept digging it into my skin, hoping to bleed, yet all I achieved was disappointment and red marks. So my question is, does it count as slips?

With my anxiety levels being so high lately, the urges to harm myself has returned, and the intensity a little as well. It bothers me that I cannot give in to the urges, and It makes me wish that I never came forward about it to anyone. It was my dirty little secret. (See the reference?)

I don’t understand why I so badly want to see myself destroyed, and even gone, but I do.

I want to feel relief again, like I did when I harmed myself. Even though it was just for a little while.

I want that euphoric feeling of happiness and complete peace with myself back, like when I gave up on life that one time, it was the best feeling I’ve ever had. Though it didn’t last as long as I’d hoped it would. It was replaced by fear and worry over what I had just done, my survival instincts kicking in, only to tell me that my body was not yet ready to die, even if my mind was. (Read: still is)

I don’t know why I want to die, or why I want to make myself suffer, I really don’t.

So I guess you could say that there are a lot of things that I do not know about myself, and I even wonder if I really even want to know.

I am not a rational person, I do all my thinking and acting based on feelings, not thoughts or facts. Even though I used to be able to think rationally, but for some reason, that’s impossible for me at this point.

My emotions and thoughts are just one big hole of confusion and indecisiveness.

The only thing that I do know is that I want to die, or have the second best, my self injury back.



Talked to my therapist about the previous matter, and according to her that is just depressive thoughts, so I guess that’s alright then?

I don’t really know what to think, because apparently I can’t trust my own thoughts or myself for that matter, everything’s just so confusing. Right now I just want to curl up in my boyfriend’s arms and feel safe, I know I can’t because he’s so far away, but that doesn’t stop me from needing it tho.

I’ve probably mentioned this before, I don’t really remember, but oh well.  I envy the dead, those who have attempted suicide and succeeded. I want to be dead, to get away from everything. But I can’t, because I care too much for the others around me, I feel guilty, and even tho I want it so bad, I know better.

I’m just really torn on this matter, simply because I want what I can’t have, yet at least.

I don’t know why I want it so badly, but I do. I am selfish for wanting something that will probably hurt everyone around me, and yet I am frustrated about it, because I can’t have it because of them.

These feelings are mostly triggered of people talking of suicide, videos of people who are in the same situation as me that are giving out advice and hope, yet they killed themselves anyways.

I am so fed up with everything. I am not suicidal, I just simply want it all to end.

I want to harm myself again, get so bad, and suffer more than I do, so that I can have an excuse to leave everything behind me.

Yet, I cannot do that, simply because of others. Again they stop me without even knowing about the inferno inside my head or my death wish.

I am, and will always be a self destructive little girl.

Living To Die?

[Lets just say I ‘opened’ my head, and these were the thoughts and random things I got from there.]

Have you ever wondered why am I here, what am I here for?

I wonder about that a lot, like was there a reason, or maybe a purpose for me turning out to be the person I am today, now? Is there a reason I’m going through all this, is it for a greater challenge or something better?

A stranger once told me that everything you do makes an impact on the people around you, no matter what you do or say, you sort of change them, for better or worse.

This stranger made me see things in another light when all I saw was darkness, I was ready to finish it all, made me realize, see that if I chose to leave then, I would cheat people from the experiences they would get from me. (Not sure if it makes sense to anyone but me)

I’m not trying to sound like I’m all better than anyone else, but that was literally, word for word what he said to me, and at that point, that was what reached through to me and made me think.

The final ending always seems like the easy way out, it still does, but just because it’s easy, it doesn’t make it right, fair.

I have people keeping me here, reasons to go on when everything’s working against me, not because I’m suicidal or anything, but I like to keep on to those reasons.

Like the main reason is my youngest brother, he’s just turned seven and from the day he was born he’s always been the person I’ve been emotionally closest to in my whole family, in my whole life. And I would love to say that that’s the reason keeping me here, but it’s not, the reason is that he’s depending on me being there, he hates it when I’m away for too  long, and I hate seeing him sad.

There are a few more reasons, but the second most important reason is, I’m just not ready to leave yet. No matter how much easier it would be to just surrender completely to the voice telling me that I’m a worthless piece of shit that needs to be punished, that people would be better off without me, I just can’t do it, it’s not right towards me, the people who care about me or to anyone else.

The truth behind the mask.

If I would ask people to describe me with one word, it would probably be something like; outgoing, random, perv, funny, confident and maybe even talkative, but all that talking and confidence is really just an act, I cover up all my insecurity, my lack of self confidence with laughter and loads of talking.

If you saw me out with my friends, all laughing and talking, you would see one person, but be a fly on the wall when I’m at home, you’d see a completely different person.  Sure I sometimes am very talkative, pervy and laughing a lot at home too, but yeah.

I don’t know why I wrote all this, but it felt good just letting it out. My thoughts about stuff, and everything. Sure most of it might sound different to you, for all I know I might sound suicidal or god knows what, but I’m just I don’t know, interested in death? There’s just something about it that captures me, tickles my mind even.

But like I said, it might sound different to you; it depends on your ability to read between the lines, and what you find there.

Are we all just living to die, or is there something more to it?”

Bekka- InsideOut