It’s hard to suffer from a mental illness and be a part of people’s lives.

The last couple weeks have been really hard for me. My depression has escalated and I’ve almost lost control of it.On top of that, I’ve been dealing with heightened anxiety  and heightened depersonalization.

These episodes are not uncommon, however. They’re part of a process on repeat I’ve been going through for as long as I could remember. A constant roller coaster of emotions ranging from one extreme to the next. For about a year I had more control over this coaster, with fewer drops and hills, but in the last few week’s I’ve been doing flips and going 110MPH down into these deep plunges. The difference is these aren’t thrill-inducing. They’re fear-inducing.

When you suffer from a mental illness but have studied the very things you suffer from, it gives you a lot of insight. The problem with insight is it can almost cause more problems. It gives you one more thing to freak out about.

“I know what I should be doing to remedy my situation, but I can’t.”
“I know this is temporary but I can’t stop how much it hurts.”
“I know I need to push through, but I want to talk about it like I am suffering;becuase I am.”
“I know I’m in control, but I can’t control this.”
“I know, I know, I know, but I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. ”
And the like.

For me, I’ve had a lot of attacks recently on the person I am. I’ve been told I was a hypocrite, a shit person, a hurtful person, etc. (most of which isn’t even true.) My biggest problem is I have an overwhelming problem with needing people to approve of me, to like me, to respect me, etc. It gives me insane anxiety when I’m talking to, or in the presence of someone who I know has negative feelings towards or about me. It also doesn’t help that I’m a ridiculously perceptive person. My family thinks I overreact, or that I look too far into things. I can read people’s faces and bodily gestures so fast, though. I know what they’re thinking and not saying a lot of the time. I think that’s attributed to the fact I’ve been an introvert my entire life, worsening when I was about 16. Being an introvert you do a lot of people watching and listening. People tell you their problems, their situations, their lives. (Working in retail also helped a bit.) So I usually know when someone thinks something and doesn’t vocalize it. (I’m also a pro at doing this myself.) The thing with all of this is, that it’s normal. It’s normal to have negative emotions and thoughts about a person, so it’s normal that people would have them about me. The thing is, I can’t process that the best. As much as I try to switch the perspective of things and realize that I can have a negative thought towards someone and still like them as a person, I can’t relieve the anxiety that causes.

I’m a work in progress. It’s just very hard to be a work in progress around people who are clearly getting tired of having to deal with you. I hate knowing how much of a strain I might put on some people close to me. Particularly because of the fact that I know my own limits. I know when I have to remove myself from situations to not escalate my own problems. It’s hard for some people to understand that concept.

I have someone in my life who I grew to be very close to in the last 4 years or so and recently have had to (hopefully temporarily) remove from my life. They’re someone I’ve basically been idolizing and hoping to ‘grow up to be like.’ The reality is though that I’m not like them. They’ve been trying to give me advice when i take my problems to them, however, they lack the understanding of how i work. They tell me I have to control myself, work at it myself, change myself if I don’t want to be this way anymore, etc. I know they’re right, but it’s easier said than done. Not only that- but because I know that, I have developed my own ways of doing just that. My ways that are different than the textbook ways that they advise me to follow. Recently, while in my depressive state I vented to them about problems I was having.  The sad part is that I know how trivial these problems are. This person gave me advice that I’ve heard a million times already so I responded with shorter answers. A hint to stop. That escalated to an apparent rhetorical question that I didn’t realize was rhetorical and answered. “well what am I supposed to say when you tell me your problems (…) ” I answered them.

I am a fairly high-functioning person with mental illness. I only vent to those who I trust in. If I am venting about my problems, chances are that I am still not in the greatest of moods, or am still dealing with the problem. In that moment I don’t need advice I already know to be pounded down my throat. I don’t need someone to make me feel worse about not getting my shit together yet. I need someone to just tell me they get it, it’s okay, I’ll get through it. EVEN IF I ALREADY KNOW THAT TOO.

After I told this person that, they started freaking out telling me I can’t control their thoughts and feelings and that it’s not cool of me to tell them how to talk to me.

This is when I started spiraling for the 5th or 6th time in a week. That wasn’t my thought process. Someone asked me what to do to help me, and I told them, and then I got attacked for doing just that. So yet again, I did what I knew I had to do and removed the situation from my life. This person failed to understand any of this. I know it’s not fucking easy to have someone who suffers so much be a part of your life. They do things that don’t make sense. They say things that don’t make sense to a healthier mind. Their mindsets aren’t easily explained nad understandable. With all this in mind, I had to fight with every ounce of my being to drive home that day and not drive off one of the many bridges I go over to get home.

The worst part of that, is this person I had this issue with, is who’s family I live with now. So now I can’t even talk to them or look at them without my heart racing and tears welling up in my eyes because I know they got one side of that story. They talk to this person daily. I’m sure they told them her opinion and how awful I am. It kills me.

I have been very vague, believe it or not, about this situation and what not. The truth is though it was more intense than I’ve led on.

I’ve been struggling way more than I’ve led on. I’ve been debating checking myself into a hospital because I go back and forth with this thought of death. This thought of just finally giving into my depression. I’ve made efforts since June with the mental health facility in my town to get a regular therapist and try different therapies to help me. They’ve canceled so many times and rescheduled my appointments for INSANE wait periods. I had one appointment of EMDR that I blogged about, and I was to have the next two the two weeks after. I still haven’t. They’ve canceled both of those appointments and rescheduled one for December, and one for the end of this month. It’s causing more damage than anything to have these appointments canceled nonstop. Then to be told I need to make more of an effort when people can’t see how much of an effort I make on a day to day basis to stay alive is just awful.

So in the last few days I’ve talked with therapists on the phone, my family, my co-worker, and my two friends who stick by me no matter what. I’ve been trying to determine what I should do.

I know I need to go to the hospital. In person until this point in my life, I haven’t ever been 100% honest because people’s reactions when you’re honest about wanting to die can be heartbreaking and unsettling. Though they don’t stop those thoughts. They don’t stop the fear.

And that’s what I’m suffering from the most right now. Fear. Fear that I’m a grenade just minutes from blowing up and making the wrong decision. Fear that people are starting to hate me. Fear that I don’t have anything to contribute to this world anymore. Just so much fear. Anxiety and depression are a terrible, terrible combination.

This blog post has been so messy. So unorganized. So poorly written. I’m afraid I’m still not okay entirely. I’m still fighting. I”m still easily triggered back into the depression. I’m still trying though.

Too many thoughts went through this blog post, so for any readers, I apologize.

Until next time,
Peace, Love, and Light to my readers.

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