anxiety · bipolar · depression · mental health · mental illness

Stringing sentences

Things have been pretty awful, but I know they can be worse and I guess that’s what keeps me going sometimes. I want to write poetry, actually entered a contest and edited some stuff for the contest. I hardly ever edit my poetry, but I just didn’t feel I was getting the point across.

One I thought was brilliant, was a mess. I guess its all state of mind at the moment.

Anxiety is really high. I’m beginning to think my ‘generic’ Xanax just isn’t doing anything. I’m afraid of everything. I try tea and warm baths and it just isn’t helping. Life is like, ‘hurry up and wait’ right now.

I’m going nowhere and yet things will change, but the change scares me. Although I know its something I’ve been hoping for and need. I’m scared.

When I say this, my therapist always asks of what? My answer, “Everything”. I’m scared to face the day, to deal with people, to not have enough to pay bills, to speak to others, to just LIVE. Everything brings me anxiety, because of the expectation of others.

Maybe it’s imagined, but after being judged for so many years. It’s hard not to feel this way. I don’t walk right, I don’t look right, I should be doing this, I should be doing that, why haven’t I BLAH, BLAH, BLAH…

Yadda yadda yadda…

Life is cruel. People are so dissatisfied with themselves, all they can do is find fault with others. Makes them feel better about what they lack.

Which is why, I guess. I am alone.

No one considers the bullshit of growing up and adolescence that we all went thru. There is no PERFECT NORMAN ROCKWELL HOME. Give each other a break and have some fucking empathy for a change. I’m not asking for excuses, just understanding.

But I guess that’s too much to ask for in this world. Which is why I’ve wanted to leave so many times.

I use to have so much confidence in college. Although underneath, I was pissy scared. But I could pull it off, cause I knew what I wanted.

Now, what I want is so far out of reach and has either passed me by or is crippled by my own inadequacies, that I just accept ‘being’. Cause everything else is just too stressful.

Had a horrible weekend. Anxiety on mountain high. I use to get so anxious and stressed, that the muscles in the back of my neck would feel like they were tightening so tight. That my head was tilting upwards and I would soon be looking at the ceiling.

It’s getting to that point again. Right now, I just want to sleep. I just want an even break. I just want a chance to have a ‘fucking good life’, as Rik Mayall suggested.


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