My mind has been all over the place. I’ve just came back from a 6 week work excursion and i’ve been really anxious (i guess?) since i’ve come back and im increasingly frustrated that I still feel this way, 2 years later. I’ve been told by everyone that knows that i’ve came on so well in the last 2 years since ive been diagnosed with panic disorder/anxiety, whatever, and that I should be proud of where i’m at, and that’s great.
The trouble is, all I want to do is to be able to do what I want to do. For example, yesterday I took my mum out to the dentist, had a sore chest, fine, ignore it. Sat with her, felt slightly anxious, fine, ignore it. Left the dentist to go run our next errand, BOOM, immense feeling in my stomach/heart that shifted to the left, sickness right up my throat and numb feeling in head. (Can’t ignore that can you??) Panic attack takes hold and I have to go home immediately. I come home to where i’m in flood of tears on the couch, letting it all out, devastated that I let this get the better of me and that i’m in this state in the first place. I end up later on my bed with this same pain that i’ve had for the last 2 weeks and I can’t shift it. I’m telling myself that it’s anxiety but my head is saying, well is it that though? Are you sure it’s not something worse? You might be dying THIS time. My anxiousness stems from these physical sensations (which is apparently brought on by being anxious)
Why would I go outside with my 65 year old mother, put myself in that position of having to ignore my body, and eventually have a panic attack with those fucked up aches and pains? I just can’t win.
-Now i’m definitely not suicidal, I can’t imagine ever doing something that fucking stupid or getting close to that stage. I’ve literally got so much going for me, so many things to look forward to... and I couldn’t give a flying fuck about any of it, which is another problem.
I don’t have an appreciation for the things in life that are good.
I want to be able to enjoy myself and do the things I want to do, like go outside with my camera to the beach, or just go into town to get something to eat because i’m hungry. I don’t even feel hungry. I’m always worried that my phone is working and don’t just walk out the house without people going, “where are you?? are you ok?!”.
I’ve trudged along for two years, getting upset, having panic attacks, having a clouded head and not being that way I want to be. The way I know I can be. I’ve tried meditation, i’ve tried mindfulness, i’ve cut out so much bad food in my diet, i’ve cut out sodas and any sort of caffeine I can, i’ve lost just under 42 pounds and yet I still have this fucking dreadful worry all the fucking time. Constant fucking negative fucking bullshit. Where is the happy version of me that didn’t give a fuck 2 years ago and had so much optimism???
I think the only way to get this person back, at least for just now, is a course of medication which i’ve been putting off. I’m almost embarrassed to take them because i’d be admitting that there’s a problem, which reading it back is a ridiculous thought but it’s how I feel. We’ll see what the doctor says.
It’s 01:58am, now Friday the 16th March 2018. For right this second as i’m typing this, I feel better, for now.