The best place is to start at the beginning and to give some insight as to how I got where I am now. Up until about 22-years-old I was sweet, I had my battles with anxiety but nothing remotely like this, I lived life, worked hard and had plenty of care-free fun. In my final year of university, loathing my course, I pushed extra-hard in the final semester, wanting to pass the papers and leave it all behind.
Well it seems it is entirely possible to push too hard and that's what I did. Here begins the fall. This started a meltdown, struggling with schoolwork and regular trips to the doctors to attack the physical symptoms rather than the problem. Through eight weeks of frustration, denial and attempting to push through I only have made things worse. I did the best I could, dropping a paper here and a paper there, and then settling on trying to pass one before bailing out altogether.
At the time my girlfriend said she thought I had depression, being the optimist I was I laughed it off and under the general impression that this could not happen to me.
For years I dabbled in anti-depressants to various effects, most of them had too high a price to pay (and not fiscally) until I was put on Effexor. Through life’s many up and downs I continued to function, starting a new course in a field I cared about but struggled to concentrate, especially when reading.
That year the London Olympics were on....hang on.... weren't the Olympics on, like six months ago? I literally could not remember much of three years between the two Olympics, I could remember spatial things, layouts, where things were located but I couldn't remember experiences or people very well and I could barely remember two years with my girlfriend. It was not a complete blackout but if you think of your memory as a timeline of major events as milestones with minor events off shooting from them and people attached to those events you get a sense of time. In that sense, I literally lost time, my brain would still register me as being twenty-two because like a needle skipping on a record, there was nothing in-between.
I decided I needed to get off Effexor, FAST. Effexor is an unpleasant drug to come down from, there seems to be a mass consensus on that. For two months I felt tipsy and disorientated but without the warm fuzzies provided by liquor. For about a year after I struggled with post-acute withdrawal symptoms as my brain tried to rewire itself into functioning normally. In that time I had panic attacks regularly, I would suddenly need to get out of the house and go for a walk...usually at midnight and my body was permanently tense but I continued to study and graduated.
After graduating I felt physically ill for quite a while but slowly spiralled back into the world and eventually into a job. Things weren't great but I was coping, going into work every day, hanging out with friends, living a relatively normal life.
One day I was catching the train to work, about half way down the line I freaked the fuck out, having to get out at the nearest stop. I went to the bathroom, got back on the next train and went to work. Things got harder and harder, every time I got on the train after that but I forced myself into going, thinking I just need to push through this, it will pass, it has to pass, I've been through too much shit to have this fuck everything up. That battle lasted about two weeks. One Monday I was about to get on the train and just couldn't, my body would not allow me to step forward. The next day my Mum offered me a lift into work, within 10 minutes I needed to get out of the car three times, I was physically quaking like someone who had just walked out of a serious collision.
I went to the doctor and received a referral to a psychologist, unsurprisingly my mind-set was good and it could be systematically routed out by slowly venturing out... I wish somebody would tell my body that. Things started to get better as I worked from home and it seemed like things were on the right track but one day it bottomed out, back to square one. I battled with the idea for a month or two but came to the conclusion that things were not going to change, I needed to go back on Effexor and here I am now.
Cancerous thoughts that are slowly consuming me, I try and hold them at bay but through every battle the optimism that has allowed me to previously cope with life and what was a characteristic of my very being has been methodically stomped out. The mind can only fight biochemistry for so long before it starts playing tricks, the mind will scrutinise where once everything was fine, looking for things to be wrong. Perceptions shift and realities warp.
More and more the feeling creeps up on me, that even when I am at full capacity and able to freely venture out into the world, there will be little reason to try. I had friends that I used to hang-out with every other, if not every weekend and conscious of the situation I made sure to keep routine contact. As time has gone on the replies from my good friends has dwindled, rarely do I see a response which is somewhat saddening considering I know some of them live on Facebook. I can't help but be reminded of Randal's quote from Clerks II, "sometimes I get the feeling the world kinda left us behind a long time ago."
I'm tired, physically, mentally, emotionally, it all adds up. Every time I get knocked down it gets harder to get back up and I'm at the point where I want to give up, I'm tired of fighting, tired of hoping and pretending things will get better, tired of gaining traction only to lose it. I'm tired of pretending to be OK.
"I've lost the will to reside here, under the tree of life where the fruit runs bare." Backbeat Sound System - Nightmares (
http://backbeatsoundsystem.bandcamp.com/track/nightmares)
My goal in life is minute, modest, all I want to be is OK and happy. I pretend to be OK and keep on with things, keeping up routine because that's what I do, that is what I have always done, that is the only thing I know how to do. But what do you do when you are not OK? I feel so alone and I am fucking terrified. I'm terrible at asking for help and to be honest there is little point in asking because there is nothing anyone can do to help. For the most part I can't be bothered telling people the truth because when I explain things it feels like I am justifying myself to them. Very few people get it but the rest respond in a way that feels like pity.
At times I wish I was not alive, please don't misconstrue this as being suicidal. If it were as easy as setting an alarm clock tonight, to wake up tomorrow or leaving it and never waking up again, I would choose the latter without hesitation. I am writing this for therapeutic values in an attempt to purge these negative thoughts and to give insight to a few friends and myself.
"While waiting for the stars to align
and a moment in time when it's my moment to shine
But, until then I keep my eyes on the prize
and try to survive, night after night, going for mine."
Viro the Virus - Starlight (
http://snowgoons.bandcamp.com/track/starlight-luger-remix)
Topic: Afraid to Live, Afraid to Die - Battles with Anxiety (Read 1442 times)