I write this post following a rough week of anxiety and frustration. I write this knowing that I am going to have a rough couple of weeks ahead. I write this knowing that despite complications my Psychiatrist is doing everything he can. I write this so people know and understand what I am going through. I write this to normalise the conversation. I write this as I am sitting here scared that I will lose myself.
My week was filled with the feeling of either complete fear, or feeling like I was going to cry for days. I didn’t known which one was appropriate, or which direction I was going to go. I felt crippled. I felt that every time I had to make a decision, do something, complete a task I was doubting myself. I felt like I had to confirm exits and have a strategy to leave every situation and location. I also felt that I was completing a combat analysis on everybody and identifying the most likely threat, and how to deal with it. It was exhausting to say the least.
I returned to the Psychiatrist, at their request, on Saturday to discuss some of my life in more detail. We talked about my school years and the bullying. We talked about my work life, in particular a traumatic workplace I worked in. And we spoke about my relationship with my Son, who is my wife’s from her first marriage. It was an emotionally charged conversation, not difficult, just charged. I have the sneaking suspicion that this particular conversation will not be the last time I talk about those three things. We talked about the way forward, mainly revolving around medication, which they want to change given it isn’t working. They upped my Risperadone from twice a day to three, and if needed, four times per day. We discussed the possibility of changing the Lexapro to Fluoxetine but we will see what happens there. They also raised the question about being voluntarily admitted to the ward. I answered with, If I ever felt unsafe at home I would, otherwise I would question the merit of the admission. The psychiatrist agreed with me and left it alone.
I am scared.
I am scared I will lose myself in my own mind. That my thoughts will not be my own again. I am scared I will not get better. I am scared that I will feel unsafe one day. I am scared it will impact on my family. I am scared it will impact on my friends and social circle.
I am scared.
I never want anyone to feel alone, I know I am not alone. I know I can go to a number of places any time I feel unsafe or anxious, and without any prior warning those people will let me just be with them. I also know those same people will give me the space I need if I ask. Not everyone has that. I encourage everyone who reads this post to share this story with someone who may be struggling and just let them know they can stop in, have a chat, call, text or otherwise rely on you, any time day or night.
I am already anxious about what the week will bring, I will share it next week.
Maintain the Rage