Dysfunctioning

I laugh about it, I have to. Truth is: I have a psychiatric disorder. Other truth? It sucks.

I’m not here to vent or complain about the unfairness of it all. I’m here to explain.

I opened my eyes. A new day, yet, still anxious. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe, nothing had happened. Nothing real, but my head was spinning. Anxiety. Panic.

I couldn’t get a grasp on reality, I was too scared. First thing in the morning: an unexplained panic attack.

I called my psychiatric and we found a solution. He contacted my general practitioner and she injected delorazepam to calm me.

Did it work? Yes.

Do I feel better? Not really.

Nothing I can think, nothing I can do… The anxiety is too much and it’s interfering with my life.

I feel scared, paranoid. My boyfriend has a cough, I’m so anxiety driven I feel it’s my fault and it’s going to kill him.

I’m not crazy. I’m experiencing something many people with anxiety disorders, personality disorders and many other forms of mental health issues experience.

I didn’t fail life. I did what I could. I contacted my net of doctors, went to my therapy session. I feel better. Unwell, but it’s more bearable.

Don’t try to go through this alone. These emotions are impossible to deal with and you’re human. Ask for help.

I’m not going to lie to you. I’ve had terrible “help” in the past. There is no miracle doctor who can cure you. Nonetheless, if you collaborate with a good team, solutions can be found.

You’re not hopeless. It’s not your fault.