It is so frustrating when you are getting help for being mentally ill, but the specialists don’t know what I am like when not being crushed by anxiety and depression. It is so nice to have someone and look past the anxiety and see me. I keep telling them I am not better. I am just not currently balling.
I keep telling them I am a party pony, but they keep looking and treating me like I am shy and delicate. I have panic attacks out in public and don’t care. If someone asks what is wrong I tell them. There is no shame, no shyness. Only mental illness. When I am scared or shy acting it is just my anxiety. I am friendly and perky as hell. See me damn it!
I don’t need to get confident in myself. I have zero shame. It takes A LOT to embarrass me. Because I have anxiety and have panic attacks people think I have confidence issues.
Do you know how confident in your self you have to be to stand up for yourself while having a panic attack? Hella confident!
There is something extremely satisfying for me to play The Evil Within and do sneak kills. Ahh. Sooo good. He stabs so aggressive. Wonderful. It is like popping bubble wrap. So fun.
I was trying to sleep last night and I saw a face watching me. It was a bald man who was painted in black like the blue man group, but in black. He was kneeling beside my bed watching me. I was so tired I just tried to ignore it. I could feel him watching me and the jerk never went away. Eventually my night time cocktail of pills kicked in and I just fell asleep. This is getting annoying.
I was told that some thoughts I have automatically and are unaware of make me sicker. That there are no feelings without thoughts. Isn’t that the definition of a chemical imbalance? I want to want to do things. I want to get better. Nothing triggered it. My last social worker got it. This one is digging for something. I don’t mind but she isn’t the first person to go digging for it.
I was told that my social worker has never seen someone work so hard to get better. That is because we usually kill ourselves before now. This is a living hell that I am waiting to get out of. I would be long dead if my cat and I didn’t have an unhealthy codependent relationship.
I hit my head hard off of a corner of a cupboard door. I have a fair sized bump that hurts where I hit. But the other side of my head has a head ache like a bitch.
The headache wasn’t there before I hit my head. I got paranoid and wondered if I should go to the hospital, but then realized the worst case is I die in my sleep. Which made me feel better and clam down. Good ol’ non suicidal or murderous deaths are always nice to think about for your future. Accidental or my body failing me is the goal.
My cousin took me to fabricville and I found My Little Pony material that was super cute and a good size for doll clothing (and a bandana for Wesker). When I saw it I pointed at it and started chanting MLP! Even anxious as hell I still get happy for My Little Pony stuff.
People look at me weird when I feel the urge to tell them to wash their hand whenever they can and don’t rely on hand sanitizer. I had a c-diff scare a few years ago. Only proper hand washing will kill the cdiff germs. It is a life threatening disease. Take hand washing seriously people.
All of my girls force cuddle me. I love it. I probably make them that way by cuddling them and holding them a lot. If I give Padiddle a kiss and Wesker is laying beside her, Wesker raises her forehead waiting for her’s. She just shoves her forehead in everyone’s faces. If I take too long in her opinion to kiss her, she just bops her forehead to my lips. Padiddle is just as bad. Both shove their noses in my ears. I have no idea what that is about. They also put my nose in their ears. They do it to each other too. The 3 childhood cats I had never did it. I am not sure if it is a cat thing, or a weird Padiddle thing that Wesker learned from her.
My social worker said she never saw anyone work so hard for mental health before. This is discouraging. I am only getting worse. Also that more people aren’t terrified of being mentally ill and don’t make it their life’s mission to be healthy.