This morning I awoke feeling okay.

I had gotten up at 6.30 to ensure that by the time I woke again around 7.30-8.00 am with the kids that my antidepressant had time to start working. If I don't, I could seriously be dragging my butt for quite some time.

And then this really wonderful thing happend…I actually was having a good day. I had found this website, I had spoken with someone who had lifted me up and encouraged me and so I thought, I can do this. I can totally beat this. I want to beat this. I won't let anxiety ruin my life anymore.

Fast foward to supper time and I'm a blubbering mess. I am having panic attack after panic attack….well you get the idea. And the worst part about it is the irrational thinking that keeps coming along with them.

Maybe I have more mentally wrong with me than the doctor who prescribed my antidepressant realizes.

Shouldn't I be in therapy? Why aren't I in therapy?

My kids rely on me and I'm going to lose my ever loving mind and then what?! OMG I'm so scared.

What if I end up hospitalized?!

I can't do this anymore and I want to be better. I have never dealt with anything like this in my life before but I also feel like people aren't taking me seriously. I asked to be referred to a phsycologist and my GP told me next time. The next time rolled around and I forgot all about it, it was an UP day for me.

I can't drive. I sometimes can barely eat. Some days I barely function, other days are just fine. I'm starting to dread going to bed at night, wondering what the next day will bring.

Something has got to give…