Anxiety – my recent assualt.

For this one time, I’m going to call them an anxiety assault. THis one was different, it has never ever once been so bad.

First I’m going to give context. Sunday night I got into bed at 9ish, and stayed in bed trying to rest my head. It would not work no matter what I tried, I needed a miracle. It got to around 2 o’clock in the morning and finally I couldn’t even be bothered trying to sleep, so instead, I turned on my tablet and decided to watch a tv series: Teen Wolf, I’d got to the second episode and it the round about time for me to get up for the day. So I woke up, made myself a coffee and I sat down and read for a little bit. Little did I know the first half of this day was about to slip down a steep, disastrous landslide. So I went about my morning routine, showered, dressed etc.

On Monday mornings we have assemblies, boring, repetitive useless, half-arsed assemblies. I’d already predicted it was going to be about mental health. (this is what the screenshots are) So by this point, I knew what to expect, and knew that I would get seriously worked up and raged if the assembly were to be about Mental Health.

Or so I thought. In reality, it went nothing like I expected it to, it obliterated itself out of proportion, to say the least. It all started with a picture of a black-and-white picture of a man who had pieces falling from his head (similar to the provided picture) and I genuinely didn’t get the connection to mental health.

THEN SHE MUTTERED THE WORDS “MENTAL HEALTH”. At that moment time stopped and my world started spinning. At first my blood was boiling with rage, I had to bite my tongue and everything to stop myself from walking out or shouting, then that caused me to have a panic attack, then she talked about depression’ and anxiety so it got worse, then she showed this video which was super graphics and I was like fuck this and soon enough my anxiety attack level was 90000/10. Then they told us about a 13-year-old commuting suicide and the six former and I just balled nonstop I was shaking so bad and just squashing my body as much as I can you know because it was that bad? Not had one that had ever. It didn’t help me at all not sleeping last night and the shitty 2 weeks we’ve had. When I stood up I was slurring and everything and I had to get Alysha to walk me to English because my legs were honestly going to collapse. It wasn’t graphic in the video it was just him sitting down with a voice over but it was honestly 300% accurate and for me to feel that in that moment anyway but have 250 others at least hear about it from him whilst on that very second it happened to me I felt so alone and trapped because it was just unbelievably accurate and I was just in the middle of it all. It felt like somebody just bled my soul dry of any secrets and in that moment I felt so unbelievably vulnerable and I couldn’t handle it. Not only was I trapped in my had, I was trapped and sandwiched between 2 people, between 2 rows of chairs and in a hall full of people. What do I do? Do I get up and leave, and draw attention to myself? Or do I stay and face this trauma? I checked my watch over and over again and I silently begged the woman to just shut up and change the subject, I pleaded and pleaded for her to stop, my these thoughts to stop and for the trouble to just stop right then, right there. It wouldn’t. It was like waking up from a nightmare but still living that nightmare semi-consciously. Every single word caused 50 trains of thoughts inside my head, and every word made me flinch, and with each sentence, another tear slipped out my eyes. I was trapped, and I was helpless.

Eventually, when it had all stopped and it was time to leave, I stood up. But I had to literally battle with my legs to keep holding me up, I felt them buckling under me and the tears just continued to slip. I went outside hoping for the life of me that I would find a friend to walk with because I knew that I couldn’t walk by myself in that very moment. I knew I literally could not do it! By this point, my assault was running at 20 minutes long, and further continued for another 10 minutes after I had got to English.

I hand on my heart have never felt it this bad! Not even my 1st panic/anxiety attack felt this bad.

Capture

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The Worst thing about….

The worst thing about depression for me is how after 3 years I adapted. I adapted to the unhappiness, loneliness, low self-esteem, suicidal thoughts and the pull to self-harm.  I adapted. I got used to the feelings of depression and deep loathing that it felt like my world had tipped when it eventually disappeared. I became addicted to the self-loathing, so it continued even after the depression had gone. I was happy, but I wasn’t really, it was a lie, a lie to myself, a lie to those around me, whoever spectated my trauma. And even when I didn’t feel like cutting myself because I was feeling either sadness or self-loathing, or I wasn’t feeling anything at all, I still wanted to cut myself because I missed the adrenaline and similarly the euphoria the pain gave me. Even on my happiest days I can have suicidal thoughts or feel the need to self-harm, even when there’s never any reason (just to clarify).

Depression for me was an addiction and anxiety became second nature.
95% of the time I don’t notice, when I’m having an anxiety attack, however on the rare occasion that it is noticeable I leave it to pan out, I let it settle along side me until its had it’s fun, sometimes we even play a game of poker. It’s fun, it really is, that’s the beauty of anxiety. It magnifies every thought and feeling you hold, keeps it hostage and opens the gate for the battalion at most unsuspecting times, leaving a field of shed blood amongst the fields of your mind. As much as I hate to say it, anxiety does often have its benefits: When I’m happy it can be euphoric, I feel the happiness like nothing else, each and every time I feel that great happiness it feels like the first time all over again. It makes me emotional, but a happy emotional. In that moment I learn something new, I learn to be thankful, and forgiving, I learn the beauty of the world that’s before my eyes, and I see new sides to people I’d never thought I’d see. All in the space of my own, and in my own time and that beauty belongs to me, and me only. It captivates me.

I’ve probably said it time and time again but I diagnosed myself with anxiety and depression in year 8; at the time I was 13. That’s the saddest thing about it for me, not just for me anyway. There are thousands of people out there and I’m guessing 50% of these thousands who suffer were diagnosed at a young age and lots even diagnosed before the age of 13. That is no life to live! or CHILDHOOD for crying out loud! That’s what hurts and upsets me the most, I wouldn’t be so heartbroken if I was the only person in the world who suffered, it’s the knowledge that somebody out there is suffering just like me, but only that I can’t help in the slightest. It’s living it all again, the past years in those few small seconds, knowing somebody else is feeling the same and that even though for me it is the past, this person feels it right now in that second.

I just need to write something down, because all I feel now is extreme rage, panic, and hysteria. I’m not well, I’m mentally ill and I say it doesn’t define me but it does. It controls every aspect of my life; my friendships, my relationships with everybody in general, my feelings, my health, my safety. It controls my sleeping patterns, my thinking patterns, my eating patterns, my creativity and literally my intellect. It takes the slightest to trigger me. I saw a picture of a ‘friend’, a friend who I thought I could trust, a friend who defended against one of my best friends and nearly broke it off whilst doing so. I risked Losing all my friends, for them to hate me for this other friend. Now all they Fucking do is ignore me. All they do is walk away from me anytime I come bar them, pretend I don’t exist. It makes me feel so shit inside. So filled with a pure utter rate that I feel like there is physically something inside me boiling my blood and organs, something inside me that made me just want to burst into tears. Something inside me that made me want to cut myself. I’ve been clean for about a month now!!! I’m always going to be mentally ill and it’s so fucking hard. So fucking hard going about my day, every little breath and heartbeat are controlled by my illness. I’ve been depressed and had anxiety since I was 11, suicidal since before then. When does it stop? When do I get a chance to get happy, to live in peace? Why is this happening to me? What have I done to deserve this? Why?

Let’s chat about the stigma surrounding the LGBTQIA+ community? 

So a few week back I was listening to a song on YouTube that gave me hope and the strength that I needed to get through certain days, and yeah it was an anthem for us, as well as any other set backs, for example mental illness or physical illness. It’s a great song anyway and gives me courage. I was scrolling through the comments, as you do, to see how everybody else viewed it. Seeing as though it is an anthem you could expect people talking about how it affects us and I read on from that comment, whilst some triggered little shark girl (sounds like she’s a 12 year old troll lbh) was being explicitly abusive to the community and I knew I had to attempt to reason with her,I started off casually being polite as you do and she got quite abusive (surprising I know, not!) 

Her attitude and point of view was simply disgusting and lacked humanity in my opinion and I feel like she disgraced everybody else of our race with her way of seeing things, especially with her obvious immaturity. I was saddened towards the end, however to see somebody suggest we stop striving to fit in and be whole. Just like I was with sharkies opinion on our rights. It’s strongly not just about rights for ourselves (as individuals) we want rights for all of us, all around the world! We want the freedom to be ourselves, without being judged or frowned at, we want to abolish the judgemental comments and the stereotypes of all things! The expectations before we’ve opened up that we’re so and so! 

I hate being ______, I hate myself, and finally I hate breathing oxygen

Last night I convinced myself I was going to kill myself for a short while. I was at my tipping point, but for no absolute reason, I just was. For those short minutes I was convinced that in the morning instead of getting a shower I was going to take a bath in my own blood. I didn’t care that not only would just anybody find me but if could have been my little brother or sister. They could need the toilet in the morning but instead they find my body in the bathtub with crimson stained water flooding the floor. Normally the idea of somebody finding me puts me off, and stirs a gut wrenching ache in my stomach, however this time it didn’t I was just empty!

I’ve created this false vision around me, even though I say I want to kill myself and drink bleach. Even though I say I hate life, I hate myself it’s fine because my attitude and body image suggests otherwise, and my facade sticks frozen in place. The icy mask never drops, and neither does the pain of life. It’s not even sadness now or revert, or even the heartbreaking feeling of rejection and lonliness, it’s not feeling it or not feeling happy. It’s feeling like you’re just floating 10 inch of the ground, carrying no body weight, emotions or even any sign you’re even there at that time, in that place. I get through the day pretending I’m fine because nobody notices the difference, in that short time because I feel the compulsion to keep up the brick wall separating fantasy from reality I’m fine. But on a night I’m not, there’s no one to pretend to, lie to, nobody to save me from myself. In that moment the world silently comes crashing down, there’s no tears to cry and no anger screaming at me from the walls. Just a vast desert of dry nothing. And that’s why it hurts; I’m used to feeling something, pure emotion either way but now I feel nothing. I haven’t cried Happy tears in a while now, and when I cry sad tears I have to force myself. 

I hate being gay. I hate it because I just do. I hate the fact that there are people around me who may one day be forced to hate me because of their religion, or because of society. I hate everything about being gay. There’s always that reminder it’s something else that makes me ‘unique’, and further away from the crowd I’m pushed. I hate how I fit every stereotype and have done since I was 5. I want to be hetrosexual so much, but it’s impossible. When around people I try to force myself to act like them, but they already assume I’m going to talk about gay things and it’s like a punch to the stomach. I need to do it! My voice, my hobbies, my friends – all just constant reminders. I hate it so much. Just another reason for me to kill myself, how do I go on with the rest of my life hating something that defines me so much? 

I hate every fibre of my being, on the inside and on the outside. I hate my brain for being ill,, my heart for giving me a blood system, my lungs for breathing, my digestive system for digesting food, I hate my face for being ugly, my eyes for needing glasses, my teeth for being crooked and fucked. My ears for being too big, my hair for being indecisive colour wise, and really curly. I hate my arms because even though they’re really skinny they could be skinnier, I hate my fingers because they’re supposedly pointy, and my finger nails because they aren’t resistant to my nail biting. My torso because it’s fat, my legs because they’re even worse and my arse because it’s completely​ just fat. I hate my walk because I walk with a wobble due to some imbalance in my posture. I hate my skin colour because it’s so pasty and my eyecolour because it’s bring. I hate that I could be so much smarter. I hate my family background. 

How do I make it work for another 50 years at least? 

A little bit of nothing, oxymoronic?

I’m not sure how good tonight’s post shall turn out, only that I don’t have much energy to post. That’s probably where the problem lies, but to even attempt to fix a broken mirror we need all of its pieces, just like how when solving a problem you need all the present information and facts to create a solution. But not only do you need a solution, you also need the courage, and thirst to fix the problem.

I can think of many possibilities that are causing me to be tired and depression is only one of them. It could be the after effects of PE, or a caffeine addiction, it, however, cannot be because I’m tired due to me having 9 hours sleep last night and approximately the same the night before.

I haven’t posted in a while, and my idea of a post about symbolism flew out the window due to me forgetting my examples and initial ideas, not to mention I lacked the energy in the first place. This I did some browsing on YouTube to find a topic similar to the rest of my blog, and I found a video I’ve seen at least 10 times before but it’s relatable. The video showcases a girl reciting a poem, which explains what describing depression to your mother is actually like. So I thought why don’t I break it down and explain it in my own words and compare it to my own struggles.

https://youtu.be/aqu4ezLQEUA

Mom my depression is a shape shifter

Depression can be a huge weight tied to your leg which you had once been forced to drag with you everywhere, or it could be like a black rose in a field of yellow tulips, it’s there and you feel it but it certainly isn’t the end of the world.

Mom says I thought the problem was that you can’t get out bed.

Now, this is probably the most relevant part for me, because again it’s like a force summoning you, pulling at you throughout the day. At at the end of it, and you’re back in the comfort of your own home without the pressure telling you to continue and that forced support holding you up, you crumble like the cliffs at our coasts when they’ve been assaulted by a wave, one too many times. You collapse onto your safe haven and dream about the could be’s and maybe’s and you’re aspirations – that is if you’re feeling up to it, and truthfully you’re actually not half of the time. I just wanted to lighten the mood, or should I say soften the blow for my peers?

How beautiful? That reminds me, due to my struggles last year when myself harming was pretty bad and my mentality broken, I thought it would be appropriate to pin my struggles on one person and the blame the faults of the whole world on that one person, it was wrong and I regret every moment of it, because she was entirely the wrong person to be held accountable. So we had a meeting with our head of year, during that meeting I was put in my place, but I believe said thing was not entirely justified. Here’s the thing, in said meeting our HoY told me, my peers were only children and they don’t deserve any of this. But in actual fact wouldn’t it be justice, due to the fact my depression and anxiety, and suicidal feelings was mainly due to being bullied on and off for the 3 years I’d spent at that school. When I’d finally had time tom process what she had said, it felt like a punch to the stomach, I felt as though she was blaming me for everything, and telling me I had to suck it up or just move on. But let’s leave that little trip down memory lane at the next bus stop, shall we?

Anxiety is the cousin visiting from out of town that depression felt obligated to invite to the party

Now, this is a great point which I think I have probably mentioned on numerous occasions. Depression and anxiety are both mental illnesses that make everyday difficult, compared to most other peoples. But to have both at the same time is horrendous and most of the time unbearable. I’ve said before Depression causes you to care about nothing, but anxiety causes you to care about everything; together the two words are oxymoronic and your every day full of contradictions and hard to make decisions. You can spend 10 minutes debating one resolution.

You see Mom each night Insomnia sweeps me up in his arms dips me in the kitchen in the small glow of the stove-light
Insomnia has this romantic way of making the moon feel like perfect company

Now I actually understand why I once upon a time and to this day I feel enthralled by the moon, and especially the full moon. The luminescent glow of the moon has me dreaming about how great life could be, the silence of the night comforts me to no end and my bed sheets and pillows can sometimes be drowning.

Mom says try counting sheep
But my mind can only count reasons to stay awake

Again insomnia keeps awake most nights, has done in the past, still, does. but sometimes I can fall asleep in a matter of minutes due to either exhaustion or the constant reminder stirring, and flashes of past events in front of my eyes. Telling me the night is a dangerous place when I’m in that place, confronting me and persuading me to just go to sleep instead. To save me from me, and the pain – figuratively and literally.

Mom still doesn’t understand
Mom, can’t you see
That neither can I

And now you understand what explaining depression is like to somebody else, or get somewhat of an idea. Bear in mind that the poem in its entirety explains a lot more.

I’d like to talk about two things especially tonight. 1) A new discovery and my research and 2) how I am not my illness but instead my illness is an explanation. 

Due to browsing through YouTube I discovered a new possibility – but it’s a chance not a definitive option. Well anyway I came across a video on borderline personality disorders, and then across another video on bpd, and another. So I watched them. Then the gears started turning in my head, I want answers, I want to know why I experience all this in my head, so I can finally greet the roots of the problem. Due to my discovery I did my research, according to scientific studies and bpd tests it’s a major possibility. I have the symptoms and the cause is simple. But onnthe other hand it’s just another possibility and god is it difficult differentiating between them. Anxiety, is simple it’s easy to identify. It took me a few attacks to realise. But with depression it’s difficult because it’s usually a side effect of everything else, it could be full on depression or it could be BPD or even bipolar. I can hands down say I’ve felt it all, had all the symptoms and thought it was all of them. In year 8 I had ‘minor depression’ and anxiety, but in year 9, things got major. I still had the anxiety but the depression got worse. Now this year, during September I felt the symptoms of Bipolar, I had weeks of hating myself and everyone, and thinking I couldn’t do anything, with sleep 24/7, to no sleep and thinking I could take on the world. Believing I could get higher test results than even the smartest in my class. And recently I’ve received the symptoms of BPD, I hate everyone all of a sudden especially my parents, god knows why. My energy levels have been chaos, and I’ve felt soo void, so empty.  

Then thinking back, it’s exactly the same with 1 other person. In the past I’ve either hated them or them or loved them like they’re the best thing since sliced bread: when in reality I don’t even know them. As well in year 9 I continuously pushed everybody away to stop myself from getting left out and alone. Due to that fact I’ve caused vigorous arguments with people and stirred massive drama, I’ve pushed everyone away to give myself time,or to lessen the blow from the grenade I hold inside me. But then again isn’t that just a side effect of depression and suicidal thoughts? Let me tell you a secret – I’ve been suicidal since at least year 7, probably since year 6 tbh. 
I also want to talk about, or try to convince myself; that I’m not my illness and that I can allow myself to be better. I’ve recently just gave in to it. Let the monster inside take over, I haven’t tried to fight it. But I know I should. I honestly don’t remember the past weekend to it taking over. I’ve purchased a fidget cube from Amazon but I don’t know how long it will take to come, it should help me a lot. I wanted to start off this discussion differently, but I forgot. Like 20 minutes ago I was beaming with a smile but 19 minutes ago I felt sick, like I was going to collapse. I wanted to cry. Without a reason I just flipped emotions and I kinda gave in, even though I thought for 5 mins whilst singing Galway girl but it didn’t work. It are away so I got into bed and got under the covers. This is what it’s like almost everyday, I give in to it, and just wait for it to pass, I don’t fight it because I believe I’m my illness. But I shouldn’t and I don’t want to. 

Dark Place

I’m in a dark place and I’m struggling, struggling to even get out of bed, struggling to work through my day. I’ve lost myself and certainly my spirit, I need help. I have no direction and my soul is empty, just crying out for help. I NEED some motivation, some joy in the sheltered and shadowed life I lead, I’m depressed, genuinely this time, even though it has been genuine for the past 3/4 years But I feel it for real now – I’m not sad, nor am I happy, I’m not feeling self-conscious or ashamed, just completely empty. I want all of it to just get up and walk out the door, leave forever but I know that’s not exactly possible.

You see the thing is with a mental illness, there’s no cure and even worse – there’s no way for sure that other people can understand and identify the fact you have one because it’s all up there inside your head where nobody else can go. Therefore it’s harder for other people to comprehend or even sympathize. I have work to do, but I can’t because I will have a sudden strong surge of motivation that leads me out of my bed and towards my desk, I turn my computer on and open my coursework; I start to do my coursework and sit there for an hour but I’ve only really written about 10-30 words and even then it’s gibberish. I see the reality of it and realize it’s never going to be perfect like I need it to, and like a cycle, I’m back in my bed again, physically, emotionally and mentally exhausted. I lay there alone, in broad daylight with my curtains open, just hoping and wishing for a change, it doesn’t come and neither does sleep (yet), I turn on my tablet and play some music which I just rest and cry to.

My next point, my life’s a mess and even technology hates me; my phones just randomly stopped working and as sad as it sounds it was my best friend. I haven’t a clue how it happened but slowly it’s just stopped charging and now it won’t charge at all, but then it’s probably just an analogy of my life story, isn’t it? How in the beginning I was full of battery and charge, then overtime all the shit and happiness just got pushed into to me, like how you would charge a phone and leave it on for too long and overcharge the battery. Then over time, the battery starts to break because of the overuse, and suddenly one day it’s broke and surprise surprise the phones dead.

What happens after that, or before the final date actually? With life, you cannot just go to the shops and buy a new one, or even a new spirit like you would a new charger or battery. You first have to identify the issue, which may as well be impossible with a mental illness, then there’s the issue when you have multiple and even so they aren’t obvious, apart from depression and anxiety. It’s worse, however, because depression and anxiety are polar opposites; depression has you wanting, to not worry about everything and just lay in bed all day. On the other hand, anxiety has you worrying about everything and you can’t find a balance.

It’s awful that society has put a label on us that states on girls have depression and anxiety. That only girl’s self-harm and commit. That’s only because society tells men they aren’t allowed to be anything but masculine, brave, bold and independent. men aren’t allowed to feel and are strictly forbidden from asking for help. Even more so there are stereotypes restricting us every day, if you’re from an estate you’re not going to get anywhere in life because your poor and you don’t deserve respect If you’re fat you’re not good enough, and how society only cares if you’re rich, skinny, popular, pretty or dead. How if man has a different personality e.g. he’s feminine a label is placed on him (gay), how heterosexual males can put a label on their friendships but how LGBTQ can not create their own labels (double standards I know!) All we think about in this day and age is comparisons, and we only accept the rich and more wealthy. We look up to celebrities like they’re a godsend and we need to be like them. All we care about is fancy clothes and expensive cars; footballers get paid millions to kick a ball about, whilst they’re thousands if not millions of doctors out there saving lives every day, trying their best and having to tell parents their children have died, but nope we’ve decided to underpay them. Soldiers fighting for their lives everyday, and families always thinking of the worst but again we underpay them. Am I crazy for thinking this, but isn’t this world just a backward piece of shit or what?