Caution… i am a pessimist tonight! I am so fucking sick of feeling guilty… guilty for having this disorder. I am tired of fighting it and I am tired of obsessive thoughts that I have made this disorder up to begin with. Because, obviously, I just conjured up this disguise of ocd and depression for attention and to escape stress!!! I've fooled my doctors, my family, and myself! 

I am so exausted from this disease. I am taking a semester off from grad school at johns hopkins. yes, i purposefully put the name of the school in, and im being honest about my pretentious add-in because i am cynical tonight. no, really, it's insecurity… I am capable and intelligent and can fool many into thinking i am an intellect. but i am really a ranting idiot and i am afraid everyone around me will see me for what i am. a fake, a fraud. completely not genuine. Because i cant stop my brain from micromanaging and thinking about thinking about thinking about thinking. everything i think has to be fucking brutally honest which makes everything i think a fucking contradiction. i cant stop my panic. i cant stop from hyperventilating. i have to get control of my life back or I will kill myself one day. 

My doctors think my medicine stopped working. and for a while i wasnt going to therapy. and i started losing control over my life- more than usual. i couldnt focus on work- even the easiest assignments. its like reading a foreign language while someones strangling my chest. but i know i am doing some things right. i've made a plan because i know that if i have to live with this- the way it gets when it gets really bad- then i will have to end my life.

so i started a new medication a few days ago. i switched from lexapro to prozac… i know that prozac can make you feel agitated at first so maybe tonight is a side effect… who knows. I have scheduled in cbt for every monday. i dropped my classes and told off my asshole of a boss who still wants me to continue working at the facility. i decided that i would focus on my health… because things were falling apart… but i want my cbt to be more intensive. I want to know that I am doing this right- that i am creating a smart plan here and that I will get rid of this or at least make it manageable. I cannot rely on medications that numb or make things adequate until they poop out on you a few years later…

why does anxiety physically hurt so much? i mean, i know the biological answer… but why do ppl not understand this disorder? why are ppl so strange about it. Even my closest friend sees this as me taking some sort of mental health break and considers me lucky- i know she is trying to be optimistic and i know I am lucky to have the financial support (although much of the money is coming from me as well) to take off and focus on this… but its not a break by any means. i hate not going to school… i hate not being able to work tens of hours a week… i hate feeling useless…. and cbt is not a break. its frightening. im forcing myself into the mental places where fear is most likely to touch me- and i do it voluntarily. to me, this is no break.

i want to say fuck the world… to all the fcking morons who do not have compassion. to my fucking manipulative father who perpetuates fear and denies that he suffers from the same disorder that i do. fuck him for saying the stupid shit he has said, for calling me crazy and saying he worries my husband may leave me… fuck him for making me feel worthless… for making me want to cut myself in the shower… fuck me for letting his stupid words hurt me…

i work with children with special needs. children who cannot speak, who cannot literally stand on their own. i listen to ayaan hirsi ali on audio book and gasp at the horror of religious persecution and female circumcisions. i think of the stories of my grandparents who survived or were murdered in the concentration camps and my great grandfather who was picked out and tortured by "doctor" mengele. I hear the stories of my friend who was prostituted by her mother for drug money and was again raped years later. Horrific story after horrific story. and nothing ever fucking happened to me. nothing. no one touched me or abused me. i did not groow up poor or without love or family. so why am i like this? and do i deserve to feel compassion toward myself- im sure all of you will say yes as I would feel compassion for all of you. but i struggle to feel empathy for myself. I wonder how i can let some 'anxiety' get in the way when so many people have experienced real trauma.

sometimes i fantasize that i will get a letter from someone admitting to have drugged and raped or abused me. and then it will all somehow make sense to me. or i sometimes have dreamt that i would pass out and be take to the hospital- there they would do testing and find out that my problems are all do to a brain tumor. something tangible. im sick of ppl asking me to explain this disorder because they never do unless they suffer from it. if they cant see it, it isnt real. its a mystical disorder getting more and more attention on tv now bec its corky and eccentric looking. either we look like crippled crazies or corky goofs. 

Thank you for letting me rant. i felt horrible tonight and couldn't sleep. I want so badly to be better.