Tag

stress

I feel like I’ve been in a never-ending fall

I’ve been feeling myself slipping away again.

 

I first felt it in 2012. I felt my mind turning dark for no reason while my best friend was talking to me. I snapped not long after. Then three years later in 2015, I was diagnosed with generalised anxiety disorder and chronic depression. Therapy didn’t work as well as I thought it would — mostly because I had a therapist that talked more than I did. I’ve been silenced most of my life and I thought no one would ever want to listen, and those therapy sessions just seemed to prove my point. It was a bad first experience and I never went back to seek help.

 

I was blessed to have met the most supportive friends in my school, and ultimately they are the ones who gave me the confidence and love I needed to be better. I believe having them around me constantly cheering me on and encouraging me is what helped me control my anxiety. They were the best thing that ever happened to me.

 

I’ve had suicidal thoughts and plans. I’ve had one suicide attempt. I’ve had dates scribbled in my planner to take my life, but with each date that passed, I changed my mind. It was usually because someone I loved did something good for me that day, as if they knew what I was thinking. It always seemed to happen at just the right moment. Coincidental nice things save lives.

 

But since mid-2018, I feel like I’ve been in a never-ending fall. I’ve loved (platonically) and lost, and each loss sends me into awful grief. I’ve been having more panic attacks than usual. I get extremely depressed and stressed out, and I lash out at people. I act like I’m fine and I don’t let anyone see beyond the tough facade but inside I am broken. I used to live my life trying to take care of everyone because I knew what it was like to be unhappy and alone. I used to always put people first. I make all my friends laugh and I’m supposed to be the funny one, so I need to keep that up too (or else, who am I?). 

 

I’m deathly afraid of being alone again but these days I’m finding it harder to control my emotions, and it’s getting harder to go out and see my friends. I just come up with weak excuses and hope they believe me. I feel myself becoming more and more selfish. I’m just trying to keep what little happiness I have left for myself. On the rare days I do see them, I make them laugh, and I hope it fixes something inside me too. But it never works that way.

 

I know I need to seek help once and for all. Good help this time. I want to go for therapy again now that I’m a little older, and hopefully a little wiser. 

 

I’ve lost my way but I know I need to pick up the pieces, and start right now, if I’m going to make it.

I felt so pathetic and immature

You would think that life is unbiased. You would think that life is fair. Yet, everything crumbled when I found out that one of my closest friends was diagnosed with generalised anxiety disorder and depression while the other had suicidal tendencies brought on by stress. 

 

I felt so pathetic and immature as I embarked on a journey to study psychology in an attempt to ‘help’ them, but I honestly felt it was nothing but a ruse to lie to myself as if I were truly helping them. Although learning about psychology helped me understand and be more patient towards my friends and supporting them in their recovery, nevertheless a part of me still resents my childish behaviour and I feel nothing but regret and helplessness for my friends. Why couldn’t I be there for them? But yet, them assured me. They broke through their own barriers to help me, someone ‘normal’. Who says the mentally ill are weak? 

 

In my eyes, they are my pillars of support, the strongest people I have ever met, breaking through one obstacle by other, slow, but always steady. I’m so thankful they are part of my life, and if you do have friends or family who are the same, always remember that they are just like us and as humans, they will always pull through, even if there are days that they don’t seem like they will. Each of us have our own struggles, but what makes us human is the power to persevere on.

I feel like I’m a bomb

I wish I could express my struggles to my family. As a trans male with anorexia, OCD and mild anxiety, I tried really hard to distract myself from all those unwanted thoughts, with studies and a part time job, to the brink of exhaustion. Overworking myself seemed to be the only way to seek sanity. My family always, always claimed that I’m emotionless and have a ‘low EQ’. Sometimes I wonder if that’s the case, sometimes I feel so wronged, because they don’t know what I’m going through every single day. I feel like I’m a bomb that’s about to explode any time soon.

I feel alone

I struggle with self esteem issues and irrational fear on a daily basis. It consumes my mind and stresses me out every time. No one knows how much it has affected me because whenever I try to talk about it, the people around me just brush it off like it’s nothing. I’ve always wanted to reach out and seek help but I could never bring myself to be so vulnerable in front of someone else. I feel alone. No one else can hear the things in my mind the same way as I do. I always have a small bit of hope that one day I’ll get help and be better, but it will take time. I just wish people were more open to listen to my problems and worries without judgement.

My first encounter

My first encounter with self harm was in primary school. Since then, cutting had been the only way for me to deal with stress. I tried drinking and smoking, but nothing was equivalent to the release of stress through the pain and trickling blood from the cuts on my ankle.

I always knew somehow that this was not a healthy form of stress relief, but I hid it all along because I always thought it was shameful to show others that I was not ‘tough’ enough to handle the simplest challenges in life. I was also seen by my peers as that bright girl who always was down to earth and had things under control, so I didn’t want to contradict that impression. It was also how the society portrayed depression, as if it is a state of failure.

In my final year of university, I finally decided to consult a professional about my problem. It was nothing forced, but more of an acceptance that this is nothing to be ashamed of, and by that time I started to see the problem more clearly because I was craving for the cutting; I could not live without the pain.

I think what is important is to tell the people whom you care about that there is nothing embarrassing about showing your vulnerabilities. Obviously that is not an easy thing to do, considering how Asian culture works. But that thought – the idea that it is okay to feel weak, and that there are times where emotions can take a downturn – was what saved me.

Some may think that is common sense, but to people like myself, it is hard to accept when no other person assures you that. Also, a piece of advice is that the management/treatment of mental illness is never a “one size fits all”. There are counselors who may work for you, and those that don’t.

Having a mental illness doesn’t mean you are crazy. It is just about learning how to approach your mind and body.It’s been almost a year since I stopped cutting, but seeing my old scars reminds me that I will be alright.

Now I know that I do not need to be perfect, just to be who I truly am.