A little recap

It’s been a week of ups and downs. At times I’ve felt so good. And at times I’ve felt so low I didn’t know if I could get up.

All this culminating in me sitting in my car at the shopping centre sobbing for no good reason.

Tonight I bought a t-shirt at least 3 sizes to big because I want to hide in it. I signed up for a fun run ages ago that I had really been looking forward to. And now I’ve decided that the shirt won’t fit. And that people will point and laugh at me. And that something will go terribly wrong.

Oh, and then there’s the plans I made with a group of people. I know they’re all pretty close with each other and I’m not. And that’s my fault because I distance myself on purpose. But now it’s left me thinking that I can’t possibly go because what would I do? What would I say?

I have to chalk this year up to being one if the worst on record for me and my mental health.

I don’t know how to make myself feel better.

Darkness

The negativity is overwhelming at the moment.

I am struggling to see any good in anything.

There is the constant noise in my brain telling me how worthless, useless, ugly, undesirable, fat and pathetic I am.

I am starting to believe it.

I can pinpoint a couple of little triggers, but nothing to warrant this.

Nothing to warrant wanting to hurt myself. Nothing to warrant not quite wanting to die but wanting something bad to happen, bad enough to leave me in a hospital for a while.

That’s sick.

Who thinks like that?

I just feel like whatever light was left in me is slowly being swallowed by the darkness. And I’m worried that once I’m all dark there will be no saving me.

The Loner

I often feel like I mean nothing to anyone.

There are people I talk to, mostly online, and a few in real life. And they’re lovely.

But I am insignificant in their lives.

I am not someone they think of. I am not a priority to anyone (except my mother).

And I think it’s time I accepted this. It’s probably my fault anyway. Too clingy. Not interesting enough. Too anxiety ridden.

So maybe I should just quit my degree (because two is enough and I don’t do anything with them anyway), find a job that gives me enough money to live on my own (maybe somewhere a little more country), buy a couple more dogs and just exist, working and eating until I die.

To Cut or Not to Cut

It’s not a secret that I want to lose weight. I mean, I don’t openly talk about it with people (unless you count Tumblr), but it’s kind of assumed or known that it’s something I’m trying to do.

With that comes the need to curb my binging. This is something I’ve been (successfully) fighting for the last week or so. I’m also trying to curb my alcohol consumption for the same reason.

But nothing in life comes free does it?

These are things I typically do to quiet the negativity in my head. But now that I’m (mostly) not doing them the voices are louder and louder.

“You’re useless,” they cry.

“Pathetic.”

“Fat.”

“Worthless.”

“Ugly.”

“Stupid.”

“Unloveable.”

“You’d be better off dead.”

And so on and so forth. And I cannot shut them up. I’ve fought hard yesterday and today to not binge, which is a success in itself, but it doesn’t stop the noise.

And that’s when I feel my brain drifting into more dangerous territory. Self-harm. I’ve never done it in the traditional way because food and/or booze was enough. But without those available right now, it’s all I can think about.

How easy it would be to cut myself. Just thinking about it sends a shiver of excitement through me. And that absolutely terrifies me. Because those thoughts and desires have always been there, I’ve just never done it.

I’m thinking more and more about death, but how at the same time I’m not ready for that yet. I’m fact, I know that I don’t want that. For now.

But hurting myself? Sure.

I’m driving more recklessly. I’m engaging in (what is for me) risk taking behaviour.

But this negativity is strangely juxtaposed with how calm and motivated (and almost content) I’ve been for the last few days. I’ve been getting stuff done (not the important things like study), I’ve been eating reasonably well and I’ve been sleeping enough.

I don’t know how to deal with this. And I’m not sure what I’m going to do.

I should stress that I don’t see myself acting on these thoughts anytime soon, I’m still trying to process them and figure them out.

But I am scared.

Beyond the Binge

After I wrote this post, I did in fact (and will admit with much shame) binge.

I ended the day at around 4000 calories – but I only decided to record it today, so there’s a very good chance it’s more than that. I was devastated, I came home, bulging (more than usual) from my clothes, bloated, distended, barely able to move. What I consumed is irrelevant, it’s effect on me isn’t.

I slept poorly, couldn’t eat breakfast on Wednesday morning and felt incredibly sluggish (almost hungover).

But Wednesday was a better day. I desperately wanted to continue the binge – my day was just as stressful (in some ways moreso), but I didn’t give into it. And I ended the day around 1600 calories.

And today was the same – around 1600 calories, of pretty good food.

But (and there’s always a but when it comes to my brain and the way it functions), with the fewer calories comes the obsessive weighing. As of right now, I’ve been home for approximately 3 hours, and have weighed myself approximately 10 times. 10 times. Expecting something different each time.

Have a drink of water? Weigh myself.

Pee? Weigh myself.

Eat dinner? Weigh myself.

And repeat.

And it’s times like this when I realise that my eating disorder is more than just the binge eating. And that makes me so very sad.

I look at other girls I know. I look at kids. I look at my nieces. And I cry for them, and hope that they will never know the life that I know. I have a friend who wants to lose weight, and another friend that was explaining calorie counting to her. And I cried then, because to obsess over calories in no life, and I wouldn’t wish my obsessions on anyone.

The Ravenous Beast

Sometimes I call it the Binge Monster, other times the Ravenous Beast and sometimes, simply b.e.d.

Today we’re going into battle.

There have been a couple of notable triggers:

1) a conversation with my trainer this morning about weight loss, and what I’m doing about it. He kept prying about triggers and why do I do it and how do I feel and why can’t I just eat perfectly for 5 weeks?

2) conversations with my mother who thinks she’s being helpful by asking what is wrong with me. I have never discussed my depression in any great detail with her, except to say that I’m having bad days. Her asking why/how I’ve put on 9 kilos this year when last year I lost 20.

3) stressful situations at work.

If it was just one of these things I’d be ok. But all 3 and I don’t know how to deal with it. I can’t cope.

And so the Ravenous Beast comes out to defend me. “Never fear,” it says, “I will eat all the bad that comes your way.” And sometimes I let it fight for me, and momentarily it feels good.

But then the guilt sets in. And the shame. And the thoughts of worthlessness. I berate myself and the Beast. The Beast gets angry and we fight again, and so the cycle goes.

Right now I don’t know what is going to happen. I’m not sure if I’ll let the Beast fight for me (the easy option) or if I will fight the Beast (difficult and exhausting).

All I know is that I’m tired of it. Of all of it.

And this is a trough…

I’m finding at the moment that I have a general apathy towards everything. I show my face at work every day, do bare minimum to get by and avoid eye contact. I go to class unprepared and disinterested.

Given the chance I would spend all day every day in bed.

Or I’d be drunk all the time.

I find myself in tears over the smallest, insignificant things. I get unbearably, uncontrollably angry, over the smallest, insignificant things.

I find joy in nothing.

This is my depression.

Pretty stock standard I guess, but I hate the all consuming sorrow.

These are things I described in my first depression post. But now is a real time example. It’s not a hypothetical ‘this is how I feel when my depression comes out to play’. This is how I feel right now.

Helpless. Hopeless. Alone. Empty. Stressed. Exhausted. Distressed. Sad. Bored. Lonely. Pessimistic. Despondent. Wretched.

Currently I cannot see a way out of this funk. And so I sit with it. Giving into it. Sinking into the swamps a little more each day.

Doctor, Doctor

So, I did go to the doctor. But he did not read my mind.

I sat there and fidgeted, and didn’t make eye contact. I let him take my blood pressure which I knew would be high because my anxiety was.  I let him check my ears and move my head and ask about when the dizziness happened and what it was like. I let him fill out the form for a hearing test which we’re both confident will come back fine. And I sat and listened as he said that when the hearing test came back fine I’d probably have to go to an ENT and then potentially to a neurologist.

But he did not ask about my mental health.

And I did not tell him.

I cried as I left. Embarrassed and ashamed that once more I let those things dictate my behaviour.

Of course, there’s a chance that the vertigo/dizziness/whatever you want to call it, is caused by something that is physically wrong with me. And going for some tests is probably a good idea. But I couldn’t even bring myself to mention what else it might have been.

And so over the next few weeks I am going to be spending my money on tests that are probably going to come back clear. Although part of my wishes that they don’t. Part of me wishes that there is something so very wrong with me that I have an excuse to shut down for a little while. To hibernate. To have a legitimate reason to feel sorry for myself.

In the meantime I’ll sit with the shadow hanging over me, wondering what if. What if I said something to the doctor? What if I said something to anyone? What if I was honest about what I was feeling? What if it wasn’t there? What if? What if? What if?

Vertigo

For a really long time now I’ve even experiencing dizziness. Well, that’s what I’ve been calling it anyway.

After doing some googling (because we all know that the internet is always right) I think the term I’m looking for is actually vertigo. Further googling suggests that any myriad of things could be wrong – but deep down I know that it is a symptom of my current heightened depression and anxiety.

And so today I called the doctor’s office and made an appointment. I’m going in under the pretence of my vertigo and hay fever – and am secretly hoping that it will just all come out about the other stuff.

I can be such a coward sometimes – I want to get better but at the same time I don’t want to have to talk about it. I want people to be able to read my mind and tell me what I need, or tell me what I’m thinking so that I don’t have to try to express myself. Because I can’t. I seize up at the thought of any conversation – let alone one that centres around me.

At any rate (before I get too off track) – I am going to the doctor tomorrow morning and I hope that I get brave enough in the moment to tell him the real reason that I’m there. (Or maybe he’ll remember my passing remark from last time and he’ll bring it up).

I see it going one of two ways:

1. He tries to prescribe me pills, and I say no
2. He suggests I speak to someone and gives me the name of someone fabulous , and I say yes

I just want to be better. Having the problems in my head is one thing, having them manifest physically is another. It’s feeling more and more that I can’t hide it, and I am so scared that I’m actually going to lose it one day and everyone will know that I’m a little bit crazy.

I just want to be better.

Disquietude

This one is probably the hardest to write.

How do you describe anxiety to someone who doesn’t know what it feels like?

How do you explain the way your heart begins to race? The way your hands/armpits/feet begin to sweat? Or the way your brain runs in circles? That there is a pressure on your chest and suddenly you can’t breathe? The compulsive way you snap a hair tie against your wrist? The fidgeting fingers? The bouncing leg? The sudden onset claustrophobia? The paralysis of mind and body?

How do you explain the panic? The positivity that something terrible is going to happen? That maybe you’ll die? That you’re not crying because you’re sad or angry but because it’s the anxiety trying to escape?

Again, there are many kinds of anxiety, no two people are the same/have the same triggers/fear the same things.

I have generalised anxiety disorder (GAD) which is described by Beyond Blue as feeling anxious and worried most of the time, not just in high stress situations. These worries can be big (job, health, money) or small (vacuuming the house).

I also have social phobia, which is pretty much exactly what it sounds like. Beyond Blue give a pretty comprehensive list of situations and I fear all of them, specifically social interaction – even with my best friend sometimes.

And (joy of joys) I have a panic disorder. I explained above what a panic attack feels like for me, and let me tell you, I cannot think of anything worse. I’ve had panic attacks at work, in the supermarket, at home, at the gym. They can strike at any time, to the point where for quite some time I tried to avoid situations where a panic attack might eventuate. Case in point, I had a mild panic attack in class tonight.

I don’t have panic attacks as frequently as I used to and am better at calming myself down when one comes on. But sometimes I think this is worse, because I can be cruising through life relatively happily and then BAM! soul crushing panic attack.

I can date the GAD and Social Phobia to my childhood. I was always shy and introverted, and I guess my parents/teachers never thought anything more of it than that and so I never got help as a kid. But the panic attacks are a relatively more recent thing, the last 5 or so years.

I’m at the point with my anxiety that I realise I need help, because it’s not going away on its own.

Perhaps when I get the courage to go to the doctor about my depression we can discuss all of this too. I’m just so worried they’re going to try to put me on pills without trying anything else first.