Rambling Through Dark Spaces..
We are taught to have a word to accurately depict our feelings. Sad, Happy, Joyful, Angry. But what if there is a consistent sinking un-wholeness in your gut? Waking up every morning feeling so sick to your stomach from anxiety that you literally cannot eat breakfast. What is that called?
Most days it is a struggle to get out of bed. I wonder if people actually know what that is like. Sometimes I wake up knowing that I don't have enough mental/emotional strength to get me through the day. I am on antidepressants, yes. But these days, they only help some. I have no psychiatrist for my refill, and that scares me. 14 pills left before I'm in a bad situation. What if I fall further into the void? What if I can't control my emotional issues at all? How will I keep up at work and at home without them? I am so scared of that reality, and the fear gets to me. I have been calling psychiatrist after psychiatrist with no luck. "Not taking new patients, sorry." and "We don't take your insurance." and "$50 co-pay per appointment." It really makes you wonder what is more important to folks in the medical profession. Does anyone actually want to help me feel better?
I post a lot on social media, partly to feel some relief. Maybe if I share everything else about my life, it will ease the pain of keeping this emptiness/anxiety/depression to myself. Those words don't feel right, though. They are close, but not all the way there. Someone once said that i am an open book on my social media. That really made me laugh, actually. Even though I'm open about things, doesn't mean I'm open about EVERYTHING. I feel like if i showed people how dark my world feels sometimes, it would just scar or worry folks.
What do you do when you know you need help but don't know how to ask for it without knowing what this feeling is called? Broken? Cracked? Shattered? This is as close as I have been able to get.
I constantly wonder, "What will I do when I start grad school in the fall?!" But more often than that, I wonder how I can ever be myself with someone like this. What if I can't hold it in anymore and I start to cry on a date? What then? It is hard to imagine that a person could be understanding of this imperfection, when I can't explain it myself.
Most days it is a struggle to get out of bed. I wonder if people actually know what that is like. Sometimes I wake up knowing that I don't have enough mental/emotional strength to get me through the day. I am on antidepressants, yes. But these days, they only help some. I have no psychiatrist for my refill, and that scares me. 14 pills left before I'm in a bad situation. What if I fall further into the void? What if I can't control my emotional issues at all? How will I keep up at work and at home without them? I am so scared of that reality, and the fear gets to me. I have been calling psychiatrist after psychiatrist with no luck. "Not taking new patients, sorry." and "We don't take your insurance." and "$50 co-pay per appointment." It really makes you wonder what is more important to folks in the medical profession. Does anyone actually want to help me feel better?
I post a lot on social media, partly to feel some relief. Maybe if I share everything else about my life, it will ease the pain of keeping this emptiness/anxiety/depression to myself. Those words don't feel right, though. They are close, but not all the way there. Someone once said that i am an open book on my social media. That really made me laugh, actually. Even though I'm open about things, doesn't mean I'm open about EVERYTHING. I feel like if i showed people how dark my world feels sometimes, it would just scar or worry folks.
What do you do when you know you need help but don't know how to ask for it without knowing what this feeling is called? Broken? Cracked? Shattered? This is as close as I have been able to get.
I constantly wonder, "What will I do when I start grad school in the fall?!" But more often than that, I wonder how I can ever be myself with someone like this. What if I can't hold it in anymore and I start to cry on a date? What then? It is hard to imagine that a person could be understanding of this imperfection, when I can't explain it myself.
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