I had a bad run in this week. A really bad run in that made me realize maybe I’m not doing so good mentally. I mean, I already knew I had social anxiety which I’ve slowly learned to cope with. But something feels really off in me and last Tuesday made me realize that.
I ended up getting hospitalized for an OD of sleeping pills downed with vodka. And even then, I couldn’t tell nurses with the smug looks on their faces, why I did it. I just did it. And I’ve gone through four processes now of doctors and therapists looking me straight in the eye and asking me “did you just want to go to sleep? Or did you not want to be on this planet anymore?” And in the process of trying to answer their demanding questions, I thought, “maybe there’s something more wrong with me than just social anxiety. Maybe I’m afraid to live maybe I’m afraid to face all my problems. I don’t know.”
It’s been a strange few days. I feel like a ghost. I feel like I’m not me. I feel colder and less motivated and less emotional.
But maybe that lousy night of OD’ing on pills pushed me in the right direction. Maybe death saw me that night, writhing and gasping for air all night after taking 8 fucking blue pills, and death told me it wasn’t time yet. Because there was still some shit I need to do.
so now I’m here. I’m getting the help I need. I went on and off to therapy the past year and a half and every time I stopped going it was because I thought I was getting better but I’m slowly discovering that I’m not and I won’t be okay for a very long time and I need this now more than ever. So I’m going into therapy regularly now. For real. Not once a month anymore, but mandatory once a week appointments. Because I wanna get better, dammit, I wanna get better.
For any of my followers out there struggling with something like this, please please don’t be me in waiting for a bad drunken suicidal night to realize you have a problem. If you have a problem, sing it to the high heavens, and get all the help you need. You’re not gonna be alone.
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