This past week has been a difficult one. I think I let being in the newspaper get to me more than I thought. I am proud of the reason behind it and I’m glad that Love From A Stranger is helping people, but I am just so overwhelmed. It never occurred to me that it could get media attention, as that wasn’t the reason for starting this project, but now that it has I feel suffocated. People often recognise me from the article and tell me what a good thing I’m doing and they even sometimes ask me questions about it, and I can’t help but feel so uncomfortable by it all. I recently turned down an opportunity to do a video interview, the moment I got the message asking me if this was something I would consider doing, I panicked. My anxiety went into overdrive and I couldn’t breath. I couldn’t even think.
Since then I’ve been off my medication. Ive been so stressed and exhausted that I keep forgetting to take my pills in the morning, and because of this I have had approximately 5 anxiety attacks since last week and they’ve all been outside. I have had a diagnosed anxiety disorder for a couple of years now, but it’s never been as bad as it is now. I also never had many anxiety attacks until now.
Maybe it’s just me putting too much pressure on myself, or maybe I really wasn’t ready for all of this. I just feel so defeated and so disappointed in myself for having stopped taking my meds. I know I need them and I do want to take them, but I also think there is a part of myself that doesn’t want to get better as if it it would quite happily sit there and let itself decay. I feel ashamed of myself sometimes.
I thought I wanted to been seen, wanted to make connections with people but every time I do I end up running in the other direction wanting nothing more than the earth to swallow me whole. I don’t want to be like this. I wish I was optimistic. I wish I was sociable. I wish I was easygoing. But I just feel so f*cked up, and I don’t know what to do about this feeling. I feel like therapy is probably a good idea right now, but I’ll need to find another therapist as my previous one moved her practice further away.
I feel a bit broken. Like a shattered mirror glued back together, with so many cracks still on show. Although my scars are old, I can still feel the pain. I’d give so much just to feel happiness, but I think I’m also afraid of it. My depression is all I have know for so long, that anything else just feels alien to me. I don’t know what that says about me as a person.
I try so hard to fight the darkness but it feels like I always end up trapped inside of it.
I guess I’m writing because I need to let it all out, and this is the only way I know how.