This is my first blog entry. I don't know what I hoped to find when i came here. Sympathy? A pat on the back and a "Everything's gonna be alright"? More empty promises and useless platitudes? I believe those things all have their place and some are more useful than others. What I really am looking for is understanding. The type of understanding that can only come from people who have actually experienced life-crushing anxiety. A psychiatrist may mean well and may have some effective treatments to offer, but unless they've walked the proverbial mile in my shoes, well then who the hell are they to suggest answers?
I called my psychiatrist (whom I've not seen in over a year) on Monday. Since I was not feeling suicidal at the time the soonest he could see me was in a month. That's not going to be soon enough I fear.
Since then I have descended steadily into an even deeper pit of worry, anxiety, depression and self loathing. I am not suicidal, yet. Though the thought crossed my mind last night that if I took all the Ativan in the bottle… Well suffice it to say that going to sleep and never waking up didn't sound so bad.
Instead of settling in for the long sleep, I called my mother, the only person I could think of. Now I've made my mother a nervous wreck and stolen part of the joy she should be feeling today as my sister graduates nursing school. I thought it was not possible to hate myself more than I did. I was wrong.
I feel like I'm just a little pussy who's not man enough to bury these feelings and push on like a man ought to. I feel like I'm a drain on everyone around me. I put on a good front and most people you ask would say I'm a bright, cheerful young man with loads of potential. A little listless and unmotivated perhaps, but certainly not the anxious shattered wreck of a manI am on the inside.
I also feel like if they were told how I am suffering they would either label me as overly dramatic or just plain lazy using anxiety as an excuse to stay home from work. I don't blame them. Like Christ said, "They know not what they do." How could they know unless they had experienced this same thing in their own lives?
I am also extremely worried that I might not have a job any more. I have missed this entire week, being unable to face the hustle & bustle of the office and the stress of the many varied demands I must meet each day. I would glady take a note from my psychiatrist confirming that my symptoms are every bit as debilitating as I claim them to be, but I won't see him for another 3 weeks. That does little to assuage my anxiety.
I feel awful for missing my sister's graduation as well. She's worked very hard to get her nursing degree, travelling 60 miles every day to class, and still working full time as well. I am so proud of her. And here I am, stealing the spotlight that should rightfully be placed on her today. All because I'm too scared to function in society. It's pathetic and sad and it's unfair to her and the rest of my family.
So that's where this journey toward wellness and freedom from anxiety begins. It's not rock bottom, but close.