Years after everyone else I’ve finally jumped on the bandwagon! My username is @anxious_blonde if you want to have a squiz 👀
It’s 3:55pm and I just fell off my bed stretching to get my phone charger because I’m too lazy to get up and move one meter across the room. I’ve put on 25kgs in the last 12 months, drained my savings on god knows what (probably food) and just took a $10k pay cut to go to a job where; while I enjoy the environment I have no idea what I’m doing half the time which leaves me feeling like a fool.
I’m 27 I still live at home with my Mother and have absolutely nothing figured out. I’m the only person in my friendship group to not own my own house, I don’t have a ‘career’ and when I look back on my life I don’t really have that many experiences to say “Oh well I don’t have much but I’ve seen the world.” I’m kind of just existing.
I’m a dreamer, as I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned before. I want to travel biannually and I want to live on a hobby farm out in the country that makes enough money to live comfortably and spend my days pottering in a garden or doing something worthwhile like working with animals. Is that too much to ask? I’m a good person, I donated to world vision for a solid two years and I don’t litter, surely that warrants me some good karma?
A girl I used to go to school with is getting $650 an hour as an escort probably only ‘working’ a couple of hours a week while I’m at an entry level job doing the 9-5 slog Monday to Friday. Judge me if you’d like but I’d switch places with her any day to be able to shower myself in Chanel and own my own apartment outright! Unfortunately I’m not worldly enough – they always want those witty educated girls who are worldly and can hold a conversation, oh and I’m probably too dud of a r**t haha!
Anyway, so I study right? I go to university to better my chances of a higher paying career so I can make the money to follow to dreams. I always say, people who complain but don’t do anything to better their situation annoy the life out of me! If you want something go for it! You want a property to live off grid and grow your own veggies and do yoga all day? Work your ass off doing two jobs for the next three to five years and you can take that plunge! So why can’t I do it myself? I always think ‘if I was this person I would totally do …[whatever it is they want to do]’ but I never have the guts to take the plunge myself! Why do I have the confidence in others around me but when it comes to my own life I just Coast along living in mediocrity wishing I had the balls to take a leap of faith?
I always said when I was with my ex that I would totally become a high class escort for 12 months while studying and make some serious cash so I could set myself up but when we broke up I backed out. I also said I’d travel abroad for 6 months and seek out new experiences, shock horror I didn’t do that either. Why? Like what is it about me that is so happy to watch friends on my insta having the time of their lives skiing and working in Canada while I sit there eating junk food wishing it could be me?!
Apparently humans self sabotage for a few reasons, we feel we’re unworthy of success or happiness – this would probably explain while 12 months later I still can’t believe that my boyfriend actually does love me and that it’s not too good to be true. We also would prefer to control our own failure rather than having it blindside us or take us by surprise. Man this is starting to sounding all too familiar!
So I’d like to hear your opinions, is it just first world problems and I need to suck it up? Or is finding your purpose in life harder than it should be?
Today I hit rock bottom, I was having a wonderful time drinking cocktails with my best girlfriends in the sun without a care in the world. When I got home and had dinner something snapped inside of me, I don’t even know what the thought was that did it but all of a sudden I was bawling, so sick of constantly thinking I’m going to die I convinced myself I’m going crazy and will end up like a mental person; either homeless or used as an example to tell children not to do drugs because they might end up like me.
Tonight I told my sisters that I need to be admitted into a psych ward because I’ve finally lost the plot and I need severe intervention. Let’s be honest, it was obviously the alcohol working as a depressant as it does and making me feel this way, and while I probably do need to go back to seeing a psych and increase my meds I probably am not at the psych ward stage.
At my worst this evening I panicked that I might need a lobotomy although apparently they’re not too popular in modern medicine. I shouldn’t carry on and say ‘poor me, why me’ but seriously, I’m a good person, I recycle, donate to charities and for two years was vegan where I’m sure I saved thousands of innocent animals. Was I a bad person in a past life and I’m being punished for it now?
Actually, not why me, why anyone? Why do over 40 million of us have anxiety? That’s not even all of the mental illnesses, just anxiety. Is it our food? Are we not working out enough or reading enough novels before bed? Is it from watching too much tv or the partying we did when we were younger? Even as a child I had the potential for mental illness, I would cut myself accidentally and ask my mother if I would die from it.
So what if I am unfixable? What if I continue on this crazy journey until I’m ninety-something in a constant battle with my head? Surely there has to be something more to life than blundering around panicking about getting the bird flu from accidentally touching a piece of bird shit while I’m washing my car by hand?
Is what I scoffed at my best friend when she suggested that I might be. Depression is for people who want to die, I’m the opposite so how could I be, right?
It was in the food court of a shopping centre on an idle Thursday that I came to the realisation that I might actually be depressed. Most of my life revolves around thoughts of dying, the discomfort of some hideous disease taking me out or not being able to breathe that I don’t have the headspace for pondering what actually happens after you die. Most people react with a completely normal response like ‘who cares? I’ll be dead so I wont know’ God I’m jealous of those people! Like actually really jealous, how can it be fair that I spend my life in a constant panic, and others around me don’t even bat an eyelid at the thought of dying?
Sometimes the panic of dying/going crazy actually depresses me to the point where I think, at least if I was dead then I wouldn’t feel this shitty all the time. Obviously I would never bump myself off – that would be counter productive to worrying I am going to die, and obviously if you’re reading this and ever have suicidal thoughts call lifeline etc. Anyway, cause I’m selfish back to me. So should I go back to my doc and up my meds by 5mg? Everytime I hit a bit of a hard slog I can’t go and increase my dose of Lexapro, I’d be on the worlds highest dose in a few months! But honestly, I just have never had any luck with shrinks and don’t really see any other options.
Has anyone else been in this situation? So scared of dying and given that it’s inevitable being in a state of constant depression at the thought of it? Like, I’m only in my twenties, so realistically unless I (God forbid) end up in a horrific accident I shouldn’t need to worry about death for many years but what happens when you’re in your eighties? Do you wake up everyday wondering if that’s the day you’re going to kick the bucket? Or do you come to accept it by that stage of your life?
Surely this can’t be it? You can’t just live for 80 years, die and then that be that? There has to be something afterwards right? Or is that just what stories and religion tells us so we wander around this earth blissfully unaware that it could all be for nothing? If it is for nothing then why do people procreate? Why would you want to bring a child into this world only to let them know ‘enjoy yourself while you can cause you might drop dead tomorrow.’ Maybe now that Christmas is winding down the high has worn off which is what’s causing this slump in my mood. 2017 is coming to an end however so lets hope the prospect of a new beginning within the new year is enough to pep me up soon!
If there’s one thing that drives my anxiety away it’s the excitement of Christmas.
I. Love. Christmas!
To me, it’s the best time of year. As an Australian it means we welcome summer and beach season, the joy of giving to your loved ones and of course… receiving presents! Anyone who says they don’t like Christmas and receiving presents is in my opinion is crazy! But some people do dread actual gift shopping, so I’ve compiled a few look books down below as a bit of holiday gift guide.
I love my meds. There I said it. No I’m not an addict or anything, half a Lexapro of a morning barely constitutes as a problem but I’ve decided I’ll never be without them again. I don’t know about anyone else but when I first got diagnosed with GAD (Generalised Anxiety Disorder) and OCD I approached my journey with the idea that I would take some meds just for a few months to take the edge off my symptoms and then once I see a psychologist slowly wean off the medication.
Easier said than done. Maybe I’m lazy or my head is really broken but I feel like psych’s just don’t work for me? I’ve accepted the fact that I’ll probably be on Lexapro forever and that doesn’t make me a bad person or a failure, just that what works for one person (seeing a psych) may not work for another.
I’ve seen my fair share of psychs, about 5 short term and one lady whom I really liked and stuck with for a while, but I find it difficult to focus on what they’re telling me or believing that their CBT method is going to magically heal me.
Probably just lazy!
But it’s weird, you open up and tell this person everything about yourself and your upbringing and all the events in your life that may have caused your mental illness and get nothing in return. They don’t tell you if they have a spouse or a dog or what they like to do on the weekends, and they act so interested in what you’re saying and speak to you like you might break at any moment. I feel like it’s in genuine, no one could possibly be interested in my obsession with checking the expiration date on every bit of food I ate when I was 9 years old and FYI I’m not going to crumble if you tell me I’m a little crazy, I already knew that 3 psych’s ago! 😂
Some people are judgy with meds, well let’s be honest people are judgy in general but especially when it comes to their medical opinions but I say fuck them, do what works best for you ✌🏼
What I classify as my ‘biggest fear’ changes pretty frequently; nuclear war, terminal illness etc but every so often I go back to a few of my personal favourites (note: not something that I actual favor) today it’s just plain and simple going crazy.
Everyone has a little crazy in them right? But I’m talking stark raving mad, ending up in an institution not knowing who I am anymore crazy.
Today for example I had too much sugar/caffeine so now I’m all jittery, I have no reason to be anxious but the very feeling of being anxious as a result of the poor food choices makes me more anxious. So I start out feeling jittery then I start feeling anxious and wondering why I’m feeling this way. I know why, but you know logic doesn’t apply to mental illness. So anyway, I start wondering ‘this isn’t normal,’ ‘why can’t I just ignore this feeling?’ And ‘a normal person would just ignore this and move on, so what if I I’m actually on the verge of losing the plot?’ Things start to snowball from there. Is this me going crazy right now? Do crazy people know they’re crazy? I know I’m probably not and that I just spend too much time alone with my thoughts allowing them to wander. I need to start running or some shit to clear that over imaginative space in my head.
And now I’m in a bad mood, cranky at myself for even entertaining these ideas when there are millions of people all around the world like me who get carried away with the silly thoughts in their head sometimes.
Hot tip for young players: caffeine and high amounts of sugar is the devil for anxiety. Well for me personally, it fucks me up. Sorry Mum if you read this I know you hate me swearing but sometimes there’s no other way to describe anxiety and the effects it has on you. Sometimes when I’m feeling this way I’ll have a glass of wine to calm me down, and mostly to make me sleepy so I can just go to bed and drift out of consciousness for a few hours. Disclaimer alcohol is definitely not the answer, so don’t do that. It’s an easy option but not the most responsible or long term solution.
Are there enough meds in the world to stop me from going crazy? Could I get hypnotized or something? Does anyone else ever feel like this? Is it just all part of being an adult that sometimes you feel like you’re losing the plot?
If you ever feel this way or just overwhelmed by your thoughts what’s your best coping mechanism?