This is the first time I've decided to write on here, although the idea
has floated through my mind a few times prior to now. I guess I never
really figured out what I'd say. So I guess I should start with a little
about myself... gee, that sounds ch...
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This is the first time I've decided to write on here, although the idea
has floated through my mind a few times prior to now. I guess I never
really figured out what I'd say. So I guess I should start with a little
about myself... gee, that sounds cheesy. Diagnosed Anxiety, Depression
and OCD here at 21. Mental health issues run in my family quite a bit so
it was just luck of the draw really. I realised there was a slight
problem with the way I thought, processed, analysed, however you want to
put it, from a young age but my family (and I) just put it down to
teenage angst. Wouldn't it be nice if that was all it was. It got worse
over time, as it does. Until eventually I just had a breakdown and
realised that I needed help. I'm seeing the psychiatrist and
psychologist regularly to try and sort through my various issues. Just
hitting a bump in the road I suppose. I know, I know... perfectly
normal. Even though I'm sure most of you will agree that it most
certainly doesn't feel normal at the time when you are having a slight
setback. I guess that's why I'm writing on here, regardless of whether
anyone actually reads this, venting to people that don't have a medical
degree, that don't tell me that it's perfectly normal, that don't try to
make me feel better about it.. people that may just get it. Maybe
without having to even say anything in return. This "bump in the road to
recovery" has been a big one - like those ridiculous speed bumps that
have three bumps in a row. Just endlessly pointless, but you feel each
bump all the same and they still slow you down. It started a few weeks
ago when I had a lot of pressure on me at work. I was run down and
constantly stressed. I let it start to get to my head (mistake number
one). Then it was the first anniversary of my Grandad's passing from
bowel cancer. I focused on that and it became a daily battle to try to
focus on anything else (mistake number two). And then the insecurities
started niggling in, the doubts, those thoughts that you so desperately
try not to think, but still get in there regardless (mistake number
three). And now, here I am, feeling rock bottom writing on a forum
probably sounding quite whiney to a bunch of strangers - and that's
assuming anyone even reads this in the first place. The neurotic
tapping, counting, repetitive habits starting to kick in. The nagging
thoughts that I just can't kick. The feeling of being kicked to the gut,
that feeling of general emptiness, wondering when this "bump in the
road" will end. And the worst part? I know that there are so many people
who love me who I could easily be talking to about this. I have a loving
family who would do anything for me, a partner that loves me to the moon
and back, a supportive group of friends and generally positive people
around me. But I just feel like a let down explaining these feelings to
them, they all think I'm going so well with my, well, recovery I guess.
So it's hard to open up about the times that don't necessarily go quite
so well. Well, now I'm rambling. This is that part of writing that I
never really got the hang of - the conclusion. So, I suppose I'll just
leave it at that. If you're reading this thank you for taking the time
to read my story.
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