I guess that you need an introduction. My name is Anna. I suffer from anxiety and Obsessive Compulsive personality traits. I'm not a counter or a hoarder like you might see on tv. I'm much more boring than that. You can't see my affliction (unless it's one of those times I've pulled out my lashes and eyebrows) because my compulsions are imprisoned in my head.
Sorry it can't be more dramatic for you.
I find myself locked in my own psyche. Thoughts are constantly bouncing from end to end with no organization. I wish I could say that they are nice thoughts. Generally, though, they aren't. Anna, your parents hate you. Those people laughing over there, they're laughing at you. Your heart just did something weird, I swear, you're going to die, sry. Death is nothing but lonely, black silence where you maintain conscious thoughts despite being dead.
I know that this sounds normal. Things that people worry about all the time, right? But the last time I had a really bad episode, it was less than normal worries:
I haven't struggled this much in a long long time. Today I tried to eat crackers and was afraid of dying. So I drank broth made from a bouillon cube. Let's be honest, I probably felt like I was dying because I got NO sleep last night and because of the stress of being trapped in my own mind and because I hadn't eaten anything.
My aunt died in May. It started that night. I felt my heart do "something". I was gearing up to take on my personal white whale - a fucking chemistry class. After all the failing and fighting and insulting and sadness of my childhood, I was just so terrified of getting back into one of my problem classes.
I flashed back to the anger and disappointment on my mother's face and the smug pout as she quipped about being someone's maid. Since that's all I could possibly do. Getting cleaning supplies for Christmas... ugh. We didn't KNOW about my learning disability. Why would we check? I was considered "above average". I didn't know WHY I couldn't live up to "above average".
It's been a little over two months since the descent started. I think I'm dying every day. I love to paint my nails (I am/was an avid laquerista) but I cut them off so I can better document how healthy they look. I am checking my lymph nodes and they ARE a little sore, but it MIGHT be because I'm fucking poking them all the time! I spend an unreasonable amount of time with my hand on my heart. I'm not super patriotic, I'm making sure it's beating right. I have to stop myself from running to the blood pressure cuff every time I'm near a pharmacy. Sometimes I want to check it more than once. Let's be perfectly honest, my heart could very well be having abnormal palpitations, but it's probably from the stress of worrying about it.
I'm so so worried that I'm driving my fucking glorious husband insane. He says I'm not. I can't believe him. He says the stereotypical, "You need to shrug it off/get over it." I can't EVEN be upset because there's a tiny person inside my brain that is SCREAMING at me to get over it! The me that people are used to; who fights so hard to take back control from... whatever this thing is. That said, I've already decided that if I am dying I'm going to leave him. We're still young. he can find a nice girl who will live a long life instead of taking care of me while I die. I really really wish I could stop thinking about that every day.
I miss the days of pulling out my hair, intrusive thoughts, and repetitive stress dreams. I thought that was bad! I would trade all of my eyelashes and brows to beat this. I've had panic attacks before, but not multiple times a week. Not when I'm home alone and it SEEMS like I should be able to relax. I've never sat in a doctor's office and cried, "Is it my heart!?" No, it's the stress induced muscular tension. I feel totally encased in chaos. Fuck this pressure in my chest.
I passed chemistry. Something I never thought I'd do. I thought I would be able to take control back from myself. I took care of some of the back pain, apparently it's going to be a process. I still feel utter despair. I'm going to ruin my life. I'm going to ruin my beautiful marriage. I HAVE to get this under control. I just don't know what to do. My god what's wrong with me!?
I'm sorry that none of this makes sense. I sat down and I wrote it because I feel like I'm about to explode. Today I thought that maybe being dead was better than reverting my to my childhood. I can't say I'm suicidal. I mean, I wouldn't kill myself, but it seems like a fantasy. Just to be able to relax.
No comments:
Post a Comment