Eating and Being Eaten.
It’s eating me alive. I have no more strength to fight back. My stomach is empty, and yet I can’t eat. I’m so tired, but I can’t sleep. I don’t have anything to do during my day, but I can’t focus on anything. I don’t know what I like. I don’t know what I want to do. Do I even like anything at all?
I have no energy to try to keep it under control. And is it even about control? Who would ever want to be happy only by controlling some black monster trying to break lose? Nobody, I’m telling you. The only way to be happy again is to defeat this, to get rid of it. But how, if I don’t even have the strength to get up in the morning?
This hopelessness, this desperation… It’s something you just can’t describe with words. I wouldn’t wish it to my worst enemy. I’m broken. This vortex of apathy, panic and anxiety sucked me in and I can’t get out. I struggling, I’m swimming, and yet I’m drowning. I beg my friends and family to stay close, but I know I’m the only one who can save me.
I had to start medication again, of course. It’s not easy to share, but I know that this is hard to accept for so many people, I want to take the first step and break the taboo. When you have cancer, nobody tells you that you don’t need the medication, that you just need to be strong. Not even with a simple flu do they judge you for taking antibiotics or whatever.
Mental health is a serious matter, I feel like dying under the weight of it, so sharing this is the only thing I can do right now. When your neurotransmitters start doing shit, it’s not enough to “be strong”. If you have already suffered from some kind of anxiety disorder or panic disorder or something similar and you made it out of it without drugs, good for you. But before judging who is taking drugs, before telling them “Oh, I didn’t need those, I made it on my own”, remember that there are many stages of mental illness.
Personally, after having more than one “season” of mental disorder, this time I could actually feel the moment I passed that critic limit when my brain was not working properly anymore. I felt the shift from a simple mood and an actual disease. I’m not minimizing anybody’s experience here, but trust me, if you made it out with no medication, you were lucky, and you don’t know what you fellow medication-user mentally ill friend is going through, you just can’t. So don’t judge.
Yes, I’m writing this because I felt judged for taking medication. Many times. People think I’m weak, or lazy, or whatever. As if I weren’t going through enough already, thank you. You have no idea what a bad-ass I can be when I want something, and God knows how much I want to get out of this. But being strong sometimes is not enough. Surely, as I always say, psychotherapy is the most important thing to solve these issues, but sometimes you need a further support.
Sometimes, when you can’t even speak during you therapy because of how apathetic or panicky you are feeling, or you can’t even get out from your pijamas to go to your therapy – as it happened to me today, when luckily I had slept with the T-shirt I wore yesterday to sleep so it didn’t show too much – you need farther help. When you just can’t stop seeing everything black, as if through really dark glasses, and you can’t get rid of that grip in your stomach, and of those bursts of heat in your back and the shivers down your spine, and you can’t walk straight and you feel as though somebody were holding your head down from behind you, you need the medication.
This is really not easy to share, I know somebody who knows me personally will read it and I’m not very insensible to judgment (the opposite, really), but I hope this post can be of help to anybody going through something similar (if you are, PLEASE talk to a therapist, if you haven’t already: there IS a way out, you just have to find it, or build it), or to anybody close to who is suffering from it.