Anybody else have a mental illness of some sort? Figured this could be a support post kind of amongst people who do, and since I'm in dire need of some support at this time, I'll start us off.
I've got depression, bi-polar disorder, and social anxiety disorder, which is a pretty bad combination to begin with. It made my life miserable through school, since I struggled with work and was a ripe target for bullying. Finally caused me to withdraw from talking to people and just become reclusive, which I have remained to this day. Makes it painful to go places with a lot of people because I'm so anxious and because anytime somebody says something to me, I feel like they're being mean to me or hate my guts. That's what SAD does.
This week, my depression is on overdrive. Some of y'all may remember my past talk of a fiancee and all that garbage. Well, it was a long-distance deal but she came to visit me for five days last July 3. It was the five-best days of my life. Of course, if y'all recall in November I had a plan to off myself but I reached out a few places for help and prayers, including here. I had done a little bit better since she dropped me, but as this July 3 has neared it has gotten worse and worse and now I feel like I'm at rock bottom with the worst somehow yet to come. A year ago, I felt like I was on top of the world, like I had my life all planned out, was just going to be a matter of getting her to Georgia for good. This year, I feel like I'm absolutely nothing. Thanks to my mental illnesses that was my first in-person one-on-one encounter with a gal. First hug, first kiss, first time holding hands all that. Feels like the last time was all the day she left, cause it's like nobody else could love this. Coming up on that anniversary and thinking of all the things we did those five days and all the smiles and all the laughter and realizing that now I'm alone and she hates me.
Thing is, sometimes I think and I get to the point where I'm like "I could be a good person not just for one particular gal but for a lot of people, people who would be glad to call me friend. All I've got to do is stand up and be strong, learn to drive, get a job, voila." Trouble is, I can't just "stand up." Unless you have depression or SAD, it won't make any sense, but it is actually easier to feel like you're lying in a hole, wallowing in the dirt all by yourself, than it is to stand up and be strong. That hole feels like a safe haven. Being "strong" is trading the known for the unknown, and without a shred of self-confidence, I can't make that leap.
So here I sit, contemplating getting my pill bottle out of my parent's bedroom where I told them to hide it and taking the week's worth of pills still left on this refill. I know I won't, I'm too afraid of going to #### for killing myself, but I feel like, after thinking I'd made so much progress before, that I've made none at all and I'm still at square one.