Finding help isn’t always easy…
If you’ve gone out to find a councilor or psychiatrist, and got it right on the first try, congrats! I envy you.
I’ll be best for me to explain this by telling you an experience of mine.
I’d been seeing a councilor for about a year. She suggested I get on medication for my anxiety disorder, and depression. I went to see an actual therapist.
I was horribly anxious about the whole thing. It was someone new, and I had to go alone. I didn’t really talk much through our conversation. I answered his questions, in a way that to me seemed awkward, and blathery I guess would be a good word. He didn’t do anything to make me feel more comfortable. He really didn’t look at me much to be honest.
I was extremely worried I didn’t communicate what was wrong well enough to him. I have a bad problem communicating thoughts, and feelings to people.
He gave me Valium and told me to come back in three months.
Valium doesn’t do anything for me. It doesn’t calm my mind, it doesn’t make the anxiety go away.
Three months later I went back to see him. This time I brought my fiance along. It always helps easy the anxiety when I have someone with me.
I was called back, and when I motioned for my fiance to come with me I was told they bring “the spouse” back later.
I continued into the office, and he was asking me questions like last time, so I tried to explain I why I had brought my fiance with me, and that it would help me. His response was, “So you need to bring your bodyguard in huh? Fine go get him.”
I was confused by his response. His tone wasn’t jokey. His facial expression wasn’t jokey either. This interaction made my anxiety spike. I didn’t know what to do, what to say.
I was kept on Valium just a higher dosage. Short after I went into the hospital. Not the body hospital, the brain one. Again the Valium did nothing. My anxiety got so high, I couldn’t stand to be with myself anymore.
After I had gotten out, I called his office again, and the interaction I had with his nurse caused me to have a panic attack. I never went back.
That was nearly two years ago. My anxiety has gotten much worse. Im not seeing anyone now, and I’m not on meds. I cant stand to go back, and I don’t know where else to go.
Why am I sharing this? I want you to see that, although it might be hard to find someone to help you, not getting help is worse. I’m the “What if I just stay in my house instead?”. Don’t. Keep trying. It’ll be worth it in the end.
No one can hate you more than yourself.
It’s true. If you’ve ever experienced self hatred then you know what I’m talking about.
I’ve suffered from this for a long time. I hate who I am. Hate the things I do. I think I’m a failure. In my mind I’m just shit.
It’s really damned self defeating. Causes a lot of depression. I’m sure it adds to my anxiety.
I’m big on the failure part. I’m 30. I hide in my house all the time, due to, “OMG YOU’RE GONNA FUCKING DIE!” feelings. I’ve had to suspend college. I have no degree. No job. Yeah failure comes up often in my head.
I’ve gained an ungodly amount of weight recently. So add all the fat chick jokes you here everywhere onto the pile, and there you go.
For most everything I mention, I always suggest therapy. I can’t push that enough. Brains need Dr’s too.
My issue is, I guess finding the right one. I live in a small town, so I don’t have a lot of choices. Most of the councilors around me have little training in anxiety. I can’t tell you how many I’ve been through over the years.
I can tell you though, if I had received the proper help, I wouldn’t be in this situation.
I don’t know what to do at this point. However I’m going to attempt to put it on the back burner for Thanksgiving. I’m hosting it again this year. I’m thankful for having a small (6 total people including me), family. Otherwise I doubt my anxiety would let me do this, or let me go over to a house full of people. Which is sad when I think about it.
Happy Thanksgiving, don’t forget your Valium!
Song of the Moment
I like depressing songs. Why? Who knows. Should I be listening to them? I doubt it.
Off we go…
When you were young
You were the king of carrot flowers
And how you built a tower tumbling through the trees
In holy rattlesnakes that fell all around your feet
And your mom would stick a fork right into daddy’s shoulder
And dad would throw the garbage all across the floor
As we would lay and learn what each other’s bodies were for
And this is the room
One afternoon I knew I could love you
And from above you how I sank into your soul
Into that secret place where no one dares to go
And your mom would drink until she was no longer speaking
And dad would dream of all the different ways to die
Each one a little more than he could dare to try
Panic wears you down
I’ve been having panic attacks for years. Over time they’ve gotten worse.
Slowly I noticed my gumption go down. These days its gone completely.
I have a constant high level of anxiety. Like a constant panic attack. It’s much smaller than the usual ”OH SHIT IM DYING” attacks, although I have those too.
It makes me tired. I’m worn down all the time. Panic sapped my will to do most things. I don’t feel like cooking food, or moving most days.
If you feel yourself getting to this point, seek help. Really, don’t get this bad. It’s bullshit. Life fucking sucks when you’re at this level.
Why you say? Well I’ve been in therapy over 4 years, and have made no progress. I think at this point, I’ve sunk below what the average councilor is capable of dealing with.
This thought actually scares me. Am I capable of getting help? At this point I’m not sure.
I’ve been on so many meds I can’t remember all of them anymore.
So, don’t ever, get to this point.
What does fucked in the heart mean?
Fucked in the heart is a euphemism for the feeling you get when you have a panic attack. I first heard it use by Chris Hardwick on his Nerdist podcast.
I think it sums up what having a panic attack feels like. I have panic attacks often (constant), that’s what this blog is about, tittle…blah..explanation over.