I'm going to explode.
My brain won't shut up. I hate this circle jerk from hell. It feels like I am on that spinning ride thing that you see at a carnival or some shit. Around-and-around-and-around-and......
I call him the "Xanny-Man"
The little man in my head keeps chanting Xanax, Xanax, Xanax, Xanax.......some sort of voodoo witch doctor or something. I am literally OBSESSED. I can't stop thinking about it. YES, I am thankful that I have severed all ties to Xanax, switched Dr.'s, etc. But it's not enough! I am going to throw myself on the ground like a 2 year old and start kicking and screaming. But when I scream I still hear the "Xanny-man" in my head! I smashed my TV remote control on the coffee table like 20 times before it partially fell apart. Still, the "Xanny-man" kept chanting. Turned up music as high as it would go...I could still hear that fucker!
It would be so easy.
I fantasize about switching Dr.'s and getting Xanax again. It would be so easy. AND THEN I would prop my feet up, tilt my head back, and pop them in my mouth like M&M's. Yummy Yummy Yummy. Then I will sing like a bird and flip flop around the house until I pass out for 14 hours in a Xanax induced stupor. Yum!
I had no idea.
I had no idea that the craving for Xanax would surpass every other craving I have ever had. I had no idea that the spasms in my neck and esophagus would consume my self esteem. I had no idea that I would twitch and blink like a crack head.
I REFUSE TO LEAVE THE HOUSE!
I am petrified to leave the house. I don't want anyone to judge me, or stare at me because I would probably rip off my sleeve and chisel my wrists off in the middle of a public place. This level of paranoia is almost deafening....
I always thought that addiction would be one thing I wouldn't have to worry about....I thought wrong.
Truthaboutcrazy
Showing posts with label agoraphobia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label agoraphobia. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Friday, February 3, 2012
Judgement
I always wondered what made me act the way I do when interacting with others. Especially when it has to do with first impressions, or speaking with beautiful or intelligent people. People I have assumed that are better than me.
Obviously, I am very self conscious to the point were it is slightly unhealthy. The mental breakthrough I had was far more complex than just realizing how self conscious I am.
I was sitting in DBT class. DBT has developed into an important aspect of my life to the point where going isn't really an option; its more like a necessity. However, the beginning of my epiphany occurred right before class when I was in therapy (both are at the same location which I love).
We began discussing why I think that people are ALWAYS judging me. I gave an example of how irrationally paranoid I get when I am driving and someone else is in the car. I hold my breath and drive like an overly cautious 75-year old because I automatically think my driving is being judged. However, the example I provided is mild compared to the rest of what I assume other people are judging me on.
First, I was born with one dominant eye and one very weak eye. Basically I rarely use both eyes when fixated on a specific object or having a conversation with someone. Television causes my eyes to cross because the left eye basically says, "Fuck it, this is too difficult." In addition, my eyes occasionally cross especially when I am tired. It doesn't effect activities such as driving because my brain is very aware that I need to use both of them an my peripheral vision is "fine." Driving at night is a bit difficult though.
Second, when I was in High School I auditioned and made the Dance Team (not to be confused with chearleading) and we performed and basketball games and at competitions. After my freshman year I was told that I was too fat to make the team the following year so basically I was kicked off. It was basically advertised that I was a fat ass all around the school and I was a huge joke...This cross-eyed girl that was a good dancer but too fat has been banned to dance for the school team. I was horrified. I obviously would have been fine if I just didn't make it but instead I was literally told "You are too fat to be on the team next year...we want taller, slender girls with smaller breasts that don't bounce." I cried myself to sleep. I had danced my whole life. I didn't know I was considered to be a fat dancer. I weighed 140 lbs with a muscular build. I will say that my chest was "very well blessed." But at that time, I didn't want my breasts. I wanted to rip them off and throw them away.
So, if that didn't sting enough, my anorexic mother told me she wanted to take me to get a breast reduction and put me on diet pills. I did not get the reduction but I did do what my mom told me to do regarding the pills and was taking 12 pills a day (chromium, ephedrine, laxatives, and diuretics). She also told me I should eat cabbage every day and when I got the shits she let me have a potato. I did not lose that much weight. I spiraled out of control and started ordering double lunches in the cafeteria, getting fast food and getting rid of the evidence, and when I was home, I would hide in the closet and eat. I was so depressed that I started eating chocolate chips and butterscotch morsels for baking. Sometimes I even hid and ate a bag of brown sugar or candy. Basically, I became an "over eater" because my body was so confused and I was pretty fucked up in the head. Since I was dancing 2-4 hours a day and weight lifting, I only gained like 5lbs and no one knew what I was hiding and doing. The damage was done. I have had an issue with food my whole life. I can't stop at 2 cookies or 1 piece of pizza. I have to coach myself to make correct decisions and count calories otherwise, and I'm not joking, I will eat 5,000 calories per day...sometimes more.
I still fall off the wagon to this day because my brain just does not understand self control. When I stopped working last year and was so depressed I quit exercising I gained 35lbs and QUICK. I rarely got out of bed. I still have issues today with over eating but I am back to exercising 4-5 days a week. I've lost 4lbs and I don't care how long it takes to lose more, I want to make better decisions again without being obsessive. I deserve to be healthy even though those women, including my mother, fucked me up in the head about my body image.
Last, I am constantly afraid of people looking at me because I am convinced they are judging me for my crooked teeth. I still have a baby tooth and it jacked with the left side of my smile. I don't want braces though because they are expensive and I don't want them to pull the baby tooth and have a hole in my mouth until brackets can pull the permanent tooth down. I was already told it would take years. I realize that its my decision to keep what I have but I am still self conscious about it.
So, combine those three things (especially the second one) and I am convinced that every person I interact with is staring at my fat rolls, laughing at my crossed eyes, and grossed out by my teeth. I have hated myself since all of this stuff happened over the years. Miserable. Embarrassed. Just plain shitty. I literally avoid eye contact or constantly move my hair around trying to cover one eye or put my hands in front of my mouth. I look completely ridiculous and twitchy with all of this going on. Then it snowballs into being embarrassed about being embarrassed and its a vicious circle continues. I am actually annoyed by it.
So I broke it down, made a list, and then had a conversation with myself in the mirror about how I can make an effort to change each of these issues or just accept the way I was made. It's the beginning of this process, but I want to love myself again. I truly hope it comes true because for the first time since I was diagnosed I think I deserve it. Its about damn time that I broke this down and took a hard look at what causes my anxiety. I am in control of so much more than I ever thought and I must say, its a pleasant surprise.
Thanks for listening,
Truthaboutcrazy
Obviously, I am very self conscious to the point were it is slightly unhealthy. The mental breakthrough I had was far more complex than just realizing how self conscious I am.
I was sitting in DBT class. DBT has developed into an important aspect of my life to the point where going isn't really an option; its more like a necessity. However, the beginning of my epiphany occurred right before class when I was in therapy (both are at the same location which I love).
We began discussing why I think that people are ALWAYS judging me. I gave an example of how irrationally paranoid I get when I am driving and someone else is in the car. I hold my breath and drive like an overly cautious 75-year old because I automatically think my driving is being judged. However, the example I provided is mild compared to the rest of what I assume other people are judging me on.
First, I was born with one dominant eye and one very weak eye. Basically I rarely use both eyes when fixated on a specific object or having a conversation with someone. Television causes my eyes to cross because the left eye basically says, "Fuck it, this is too difficult." In addition, my eyes occasionally cross especially when I am tired. It doesn't effect activities such as driving because my brain is very aware that I need to use both of them an my peripheral vision is "fine." Driving at night is a bit difficult though.
Second, when I was in High School I auditioned and made the Dance Team (not to be confused with chearleading) and we performed and basketball games and at competitions. After my freshman year I was told that I was too fat to make the team the following year so basically I was kicked off. It was basically advertised that I was a fat ass all around the school and I was a huge joke...This cross-eyed girl that was a good dancer but too fat has been banned to dance for the school team. I was horrified. I obviously would have been fine if I just didn't make it but instead I was literally told "You are too fat to be on the team next year...we want taller, slender girls with smaller breasts that don't bounce." I cried myself to sleep. I had danced my whole life. I didn't know I was considered to be a fat dancer. I weighed 140 lbs with a muscular build. I will say that my chest was "very well blessed." But at that time, I didn't want my breasts. I wanted to rip them off and throw them away.
So, if that didn't sting enough, my anorexic mother told me she wanted to take me to get a breast reduction and put me on diet pills. I did not get the reduction but I did do what my mom told me to do regarding the pills and was taking 12 pills a day (chromium, ephedrine, laxatives, and diuretics). She also told me I should eat cabbage every day and when I got the shits she let me have a potato. I did not lose that much weight. I spiraled out of control and started ordering double lunches in the cafeteria, getting fast food and getting rid of the evidence, and when I was home, I would hide in the closet and eat. I was so depressed that I started eating chocolate chips and butterscotch morsels for baking. Sometimes I even hid and ate a bag of brown sugar or candy. Basically, I became an "over eater" because my body was so confused and I was pretty fucked up in the head. Since I was dancing 2-4 hours a day and weight lifting, I only gained like 5lbs and no one knew what I was hiding and doing. The damage was done. I have had an issue with food my whole life. I can't stop at 2 cookies or 1 piece of pizza. I have to coach myself to make correct decisions and count calories otherwise, and I'm not joking, I will eat 5,000 calories per day...sometimes more.
I still fall off the wagon to this day because my brain just does not understand self control. When I stopped working last year and was so depressed I quit exercising I gained 35lbs and QUICK. I rarely got out of bed. I still have issues today with over eating but I am back to exercising 4-5 days a week. I've lost 4lbs and I don't care how long it takes to lose more, I want to make better decisions again without being obsessive. I deserve to be healthy even though those women, including my mother, fucked me up in the head about my body image.
Last, I am constantly afraid of people looking at me because I am convinced they are judging me for my crooked teeth. I still have a baby tooth and it jacked with the left side of my smile. I don't want braces though because they are expensive and I don't want them to pull the baby tooth and have a hole in my mouth until brackets can pull the permanent tooth down. I was already told it would take years. I realize that its my decision to keep what I have but I am still self conscious about it.
So, combine those three things (especially the second one) and I am convinced that every person I interact with is staring at my fat rolls, laughing at my crossed eyes, and grossed out by my teeth. I have hated myself since all of this stuff happened over the years. Miserable. Embarrassed. Just plain shitty. I literally avoid eye contact or constantly move my hair around trying to cover one eye or put my hands in front of my mouth. I look completely ridiculous and twitchy with all of this going on. Then it snowballs into being embarrassed about being embarrassed and its a vicious circle continues. I am actually annoyed by it.
So I broke it down, made a list, and then had a conversation with myself in the mirror about how I can make an effort to change each of these issues or just accept the way I was made. It's the beginning of this process, but I want to love myself again. I truly hope it comes true because for the first time since I was diagnosed I think I deserve it. Its about damn time that I broke this down and took a hard look at what causes my anxiety. I am in control of so much more than I ever thought and I must say, its a pleasant surprise.
Thanks for listening,
Truthaboutcrazy
Thursday, July 21, 2011
A desperate letter to my wife...
I hope you are happy because sending me over the edge worked this morning. Do you think your rude behavior towards me made the guilt go away? No, it made me puke brown sludge from my breakfast. TWICE. Do you think I wanted to lay around and sleep? Wrong. I did not stay home to sleep....
I literally layed this morning WITH MY HEAD IN MY HANDS stressed and SADDENNED beyond what your brain can possibly interpret. Your inability to take the hour an a half that you were at home and aware that something was very, and truly wrong, caused deeper problems than you and I CANNOT even imagine. This morning was a clear cry for help and I am disgusted by the fact that you actually held my hand and "tried" to care until YOU decided that you were infuriated. YOU made this about your own selfish thoughts instead of taking just a few moments to put yourself in my shoes. JUST A FEW MOMENTS WOULD HAVE HAD A BETTER OUTCOME.
I WILL have sick days; HOWEVER, I am extremely proud of my accomplishments. I AM EXTREMELY satisfied with my ability to OVERCOME my adversities to land this job, keep this job, and have the desire to GO BACK as soon as TOMORROW when I can make sense of the deamons that are lurking around the corner. HELL YEAH, this will happen again, my point is that I have always tried to impress you, make you and our family happy, and stop the insanity from ruining our relationship.
YOU, of all people, after all of the years of watching me cope, should understand that my life will not magically become easier overnight. YOU have watched my struggles since August of 2008 when I was first diagnosed. Yes, you gave me a second chance, but I feel as though I pay for it everyday. I have mental adversities over issues that are clearly my own deamons that develop into what is categorized as "guilt."
This is a much deeper seeded issue than you can ever imagine. If it wasn't for my image issues, I would be slittling my wrists, throat, stomach, between my toes, and the back of my legs every single day. Cutting, is not an act for attention, pity, or any other self absorbed categorization. Cutting is a charactoristic of my illness. No two mental illnesses are exactly the same. They are like fingerprints. I continuosly try to let you into the world of my addiction to mutilate. My terrible panic attacks and overcoming what developed into agoraphobic tendencies cause issues to do a task at work, it actually takes me twice as long because of all of the editing, second guessing, checking, re-checking, etc. Am I going to impress the intelligent individuals that I work with? Am I going to embarass myself? A lot of these issues many healthy people deal with AND I GET THAT; however, the impact on my "fingerprint" aka mental illness, is severe.
Have you ever felt like dying inside? Have you ever had too much on your plate? I already know the answer is YES. BUT, imagine that happening about every 20 minutes. It's referred to as the bipolar cycle.
Dr. "I" and I have known each other for 3-years. If I needed to prioritze my conversation to be about something other than what I chose to discuss the other day, then that is what we would have talked about. However, when I ranked my "deamons," that particular category was what had plagued my mind the most. You must also understand, that I have several items on my itinerary when I meet with him. Due to time constraints and ME SIMPLY FORGETTING, it doesn't always happen. I need a therapist in addition to all of this. WE need a therapist, actually, I think that a couple traveling through the process of healing together is something that can actually keep our relationship strong; stand out from the rest. WE talked about the therapist and it never happened.
I lost my train of thought, I had to go vommit again, sorry I didn't ask for your permission to be actually "normal person sick" and "mental person sick" on both days....but "a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush" right? Always multi-tasking like a good little girl. (this was my sarcastic sentence).
I want to say curse words. I will refrain from calling you names, and adding explicative "adjectives."
Again, I am in over my head. I do not need you to yell and say, "well then just quit." That will not benefit our family. That will not benefit my illness. I HAVE ALREADY SEEN a huge improvement being on a set sleep schedule, developing a daily routine, and actually doing a job that I am passionate about. BUT, it does not take away what still exists.
Today, was a cry for help. I do not need you to fly home from your job to babysit me. It was a strong need for us to build our level of conversation and communication which kinda sucks right now. Being a parent is awesome but it is definitely an inconvenience when scheduling a time to talk. Sometimes a cry for help supercedes any "scheduling" that may need to be done. Sometimes it needs to be a priority. I want to feel as though I am a priority. That statement is not intended to sound selfish. My intentions are genuine.
My cry for help is more of a NEED of respect and understanding as it pertains to SICKNESS. Sick days are unavoidable, I realize in the United States your employer has the ability to take your job away at any time for any reason. I realize that since we are gay I cannot go on your health insurance. I also realize that you cannot help to be ANGRY when you are the only working adult in the household. BUT, please understand, I ACTUALLY want to contribute. Huge difference. I want to provide for OUR FAMILY so that we can enjoy simple things such as cable, electricity, water, shelter, a healthy dinner as well as perks such as vacation and flying accross the country to see our family members that have chosen not to live near us (I have a lot of anger towards my family for moving away) and I know that you miss yours.
I love my job. It is very hard. I am afraid. But the fact that I have a job is an unbelievable gift. I want it but does it want me?
For goodness sake, I have to go to court and prove myself AGAIN that I am the best fit for my son and HE DESERVES child support. Have you thought that maybe the amount of stress from that day is a dark cloud getting closer, and closer, and causing me panic attacks? My throat has been burning from the attacks.
I want you to know that if I didn't love you and my son, I would let my son's father raise him and I would not be with you. I would be on the next flight to live with my parents or Hawaii to live in a tent with no health insurance and go off on some crazy downward spiral. BUT IT IS YOU that inspires me IT IS YOU that makes me want to try and be better. Why? I love you with all of my heart. I am in love with you. I don't love you for convenience. I don't love you because I am crying right now. I don't love you because it is the easy way out. You help me try, better myself, and you have the warmest heart. I just don't know if you feel the same way anymore. Is your heart slowly becoming cold? Are you slipping away? I don't feel like I deserve you. At times, I know you rather be married to a woman stronger than me. However, this is all I have to offer. I don't know what the future holds concerning any of what I have just discussed.
I lost my train of thought which seams to be a trend lately. I had to step away. If you choose to respond to me I will not be using my e-mail for the rest of the day. I have a lot to think about. Thoughts are swimming around my head and it is time I stop. Breathe. Take it all in. I went from 0-60 without preparing to go back to work because I was hired "on the spot."
If you chose to contact me, and I hope you do, I prefer a phone call as responding to this may not fit in a simple text message. But again, the ball is in your court now and that is your decision.
PLEASE SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS YOU GUYS...I FEEL SO LOST!
Friday, July 1, 2011
Back to Work...
I'm so happy; I'm not happy.
Feed the sickness.
So deserving; undeserving.
Tiny voices in my head.
I try so hard to not try hard.
Feel the sickness.
So beautiful that its not wanted.
Want to hide under my bed.
I'm so strong; I'm so weak.
My "big girl" future is looking bleak.
I'm so happy; I'm not happy.
Familiar voices in my head.
Sooo...
How the hell are ya'll doing?
I recieve a gift. A gift of opportunity, coincidence, and discomfort all rolled into one. I am working in a very high profile office performing a very high profile job where a neat and tidy appearance, mentality, and approach is everything....everything that I "used to be."
I accepted this gift because I am working for an amazing company with the top reputation for getting people jobs. I'm a bleeding heart and so naturally I wanted to take this job. I couldn't find a job so naturally I can empathize. Of course there are major standards, corporate requirements, and I have to market myself...It's wonderful, actually, but my disorder is lurking around every corner. I only want to cry during the most inconvenient time! I want to quit at least once a day because I am overwhelmed and I feel inferior. I am working with these STRONG women with a clear vision of their lives, etc. etc.
Bottom Line: I happen to be fortunate enough to have the "potential" of being the best. This is what I have been told anyway...but when I am told something like that, my brain translates this into, "You are an idiot, go home, and never show your face in this high profile town again."
It's just too fast! I didn't even know that I would interview on Friday and start on Monday...I had no time to prioritize, no "fun money" to buy new clothes and I just somehow show up in a suit and kick ass...I don't want to kick ass because then I get all of this attention...thats the other problem...I love attention...but I don't want it. I can't stop dreaming about a car speeding down the road and hitting a wall.
I can't stop obsessing over the fact that no one is at the house now and I should be in it...I never really wanted to leave it but it's obvious that I was quickly developing agoraphobia...
I don't know how to end this blog so I'm just going to go off to bed...my head is swimming, I'm so glad Friday has arrived, and I hope I am atleast 50% awake tomorrow. I'm not asking for pity or anything...I just can't stop envisioning this puppy dropped off in a fancy neighborhood trying to find someone to love him even though he is beat up a bit and doesn't look thin, well manicured, and promising...sick part is that I grew up in that fancy town and thats where the dysfunction began...we shall see I suppose.
I need my happy place!!!!!!!!!!!
Feed the sickness.
So deserving; undeserving.
Tiny voices in my head.
I try so hard to not try hard.
Feel the sickness.
So beautiful that its not wanted.
Want to hide under my bed.
I'm so strong; I'm so weak.
My "big girl" future is looking bleak.
I'm so happy; I'm not happy.
Familiar voices in my head.
Sooo...
How the hell are ya'll doing?
I recieve a gift. A gift of opportunity, coincidence, and discomfort all rolled into one. I am working in a very high profile office performing a very high profile job where a neat and tidy appearance, mentality, and approach is everything....everything that I "used to be."
I accepted this gift because I am working for an amazing company with the top reputation for getting people jobs. I'm a bleeding heart and so naturally I wanted to take this job. I couldn't find a job so naturally I can empathize. Of course there are major standards, corporate requirements, and I have to market myself...It's wonderful, actually, but my disorder is lurking around every corner. I only want to cry during the most inconvenient time! I want to quit at least once a day because I am overwhelmed and I feel inferior. I am working with these STRONG women with a clear vision of their lives, etc. etc.
Bottom Line: I happen to be fortunate enough to have the "potential" of being the best. This is what I have been told anyway...but when I am told something like that, my brain translates this into, "You are an idiot, go home, and never show your face in this high profile town again."
It's just too fast! I didn't even know that I would interview on Friday and start on Monday...I had no time to prioritize, no "fun money" to buy new clothes and I just somehow show up in a suit and kick ass...I don't want to kick ass because then I get all of this attention...thats the other problem...I love attention...but I don't want it. I can't stop dreaming about a car speeding down the road and hitting a wall.
I can't stop obsessing over the fact that no one is at the house now and I should be in it...I never really wanted to leave it but it's obvious that I was quickly developing agoraphobia...
I don't know how to end this blog so I'm just going to go off to bed...my head is swimming, I'm so glad Friday has arrived, and I hope I am atleast 50% awake tomorrow. I'm not asking for pity or anything...I just can't stop envisioning this puppy dropped off in a fancy neighborhood trying to find someone to love him even though he is beat up a bit and doesn't look thin, well manicured, and promising...sick part is that I grew up in that fancy town and thats where the dysfunction began...we shall see I suppose.
I need my happy place!!!!!!!!!!!
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