I feel like I have been defeated by a dragon admitting this... and I know I shouldn't but I do. I have succumbed to my anxiety... I have started therapy and I'm on medication. It's pretty insane and I am almost ashamed by it... okay ashamed isn't the right word... I'm embarrassed or I don't know what the word is. But I do know that I feel weird about this whole situation.
About a month ago I finally came to the realization that I wasn't okay. That the thoughts I have been having aren't okay, aren't "normal" and are something that can be changed. I realized that I didn't have to feel the way I've been feeling. It was a hard realization to come to, it truly did (still sort of does) feel like failure.
The realization came slowly. My feelings of failure and inability to move forward in life increased. And yet my health was better than ever, arguably the best it's been in a very long time. But despite that I felt incapable of moving forward, progressing and the idea of it caused a lot of worry. Then something else started to change, I started to really hate myself. I'm not talking about the general self esteem issues I've had most of my life. I'm not talking about a bad hair day or a fat day or anything. I mean I literally found myself so annoying and I just wanted to claw my skin off. The final straw was when I became so overwhelmed not only with my situation but the situation in the world at a whole. The violence, racism, a literal plague, hate and anger, see trafficking, injustice, selfishness and overall suffering that I began feeling like life truly was hopeless... like I would be better off not living at all.
No let me preference this by saying that I never harmed myself physically nor did I ever feel a desire to do so. I never felt the desire to take my life or anything of that sort. For that I am much more than grateful. I cannot imagine the terror of loosing that side of myself. And I'll be honest I have felt that since my cousins suicide I have a responsibility to my mental health and well being and to protect my family from more heartache caused by mental illness.
Having a discussion with my Mom about how I'm doing was very humbling. There were many tears... and we decided to get me some help. It wasn't easy it hasn't been easy. But I have found a therapist and I've gotten medication. It's been a new journey one I never really planned on taking. But I am learning to take things a day at a time and to have hope that healing is possible.
I haven't told a lot of people in fact I haven't even told all my siblings. I don't really feel comfortable discussing this for a number of reasons: I sort of feel like I maxed out my problems docket for, well my entire life, an adding this is just once again me seeking attention and once again having more issues to burden people with. I also feel like this wasn't supposed to be my struggle. I have two incredible siblings who have struggled with their mental health much of their lives and this has in many ways felt like it was their battle. Now I feel like I am hurting them by taking this away from them? Doesn't makes sense and I get that but it feel very valid. And finally I feel so little value in myself and about myself that I don't feel like talking to people. It's much easier, rather lonely though, to fake the smile and ignore it.
I have a feeling that this will be a long road. I know that healing is possible... or at least a betterment of my situation. I am grateful that there is a way to get help, and I'm willing to do my part (the best I can) to make things better.
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