frank the triage nurse
as some of you may have noticed, my sparce journal entries have tended to be on the depressing side. I dont think i have ever felt so shitty in my life. i feel like breaking up with sara was the biggest mistake of my life, for a multitude of reasons, all of which i will not go into here: if you know me and you know sara, you know why im an idiot.
then i tried to date someone who i thought would be a good match for me, she claimed to love me, and in her way, i am sure she does, but then a few weeks into it she fucked her ex. i feel like i do/did love her, but i also think this might just be a case of "i have only seen the things about you that i like, not the ratty cotton underwear, not the bouts of pushing everyone away." she is a wonderful person, feels horrible about what she did. we all make mistakes, but mayeb this is for the best, maybe she and i are just meant to be friends, our kinds of crazy are too similar, and im getting too old for romanticizing the painful.
now, i return to sara: do i love her? yes. did i stop loving her? in hindsight, no. the things i wanted to change about her were things that could have been dealt with (if she also wanted to change those things) together. i did not have to break up with her for her to learn how to become more independant. and i did not have to break up with her to feel like i could do things on my own. in fact, that was the worse thing for someone like me to do: i have three kinds of anxiety disorders and to send the only person you feel you can tell anything to (the only person in your life who hasnt lied to you or made you feel shitty or gave you drugs to make herself feel better) packing, so you can be alone 8 states away from any friends or family in order to feel more confident and less terrified of life in general is actually the worst way to feel better about yourself. pushing sara away hasnt made me feel better in my skin, its made me feel infinitely worse. like heroin, its dangerous to go cold turkey on your support system. case in point, i think i am depressed for the first time in my life.
does this sound like depression?
-not hungry
-lost weight
-only interested in sleeping so the day goes by so i can get to tomorrow only to get through it as well.
-i feel lonely almost all the time, but when im at home its almost unbearable
-i have no desire to read or write
-have lost all interest in sex
-i would never act on it, but most days i wish my life was just over.
-i have done more sobbing in the last 4 weeks than i have in the last 4 years. most of the time it is out of nowhere and uncontrollable.
and now i see why drs always link depression with anxiety, depression is like being anxious without having the interest or strength to freak out/have a panic attack. but dont worry (god knows im doing enough for the lot of us), the old emily is still here, and i have plently of anxious time inbetween the bouts of hysterical crying, or sometimes the crying and panic occurs at the same time. and thats when it gets really good: i want to rip my skin off my body and run screaming down the middle of the street.
so im going to talk to frank, the triage nurse on wednesday. its a phone interview so i can tell him i need some drugs to survive the daily (ive never wanted to be numb before in my life, but now it sounsd like heaven, i need a break form myself) and some thearpy for after this initial time and to ween off the drugs. if i dont get something in my system to quell these feelings while i work them out, im going to drop out of school, move in with my mom, and work at an FYE for the rest of my life. god, that sounds so comforting. fuck, really comforting. im going to go take a nap.
then i tried to date someone who i thought would be a good match for me, she claimed to love me, and in her way, i am sure she does, but then a few weeks into it she fucked her ex. i feel like i do/did love her, but i also think this might just be a case of "i have only seen the things about you that i like, not the ratty cotton underwear, not the bouts of pushing everyone away." she is a wonderful person, feels horrible about what she did. we all make mistakes, but mayeb this is for the best, maybe she and i are just meant to be friends, our kinds of crazy are too similar, and im getting too old for romanticizing the painful.
now, i return to sara: do i love her? yes. did i stop loving her? in hindsight, no. the things i wanted to change about her were things that could have been dealt with (if she also wanted to change those things) together. i did not have to break up with her for her to learn how to become more independant. and i did not have to break up with her to feel like i could do things on my own. in fact, that was the worse thing for someone like me to do: i have three kinds of anxiety disorders and to send the only person you feel you can tell anything to (the only person in your life who hasnt lied to you or made you feel shitty or gave you drugs to make herself feel better) packing, so you can be alone 8 states away from any friends or family in order to feel more confident and less terrified of life in general is actually the worst way to feel better about yourself. pushing sara away hasnt made me feel better in my skin, its made me feel infinitely worse. like heroin, its dangerous to go cold turkey on your support system. case in point, i think i am depressed for the first time in my life.
does this sound like depression?
-not hungry
-lost weight
-only interested in sleeping so the day goes by so i can get to tomorrow only to get through it as well.
-i feel lonely almost all the time, but when im at home its almost unbearable
-i have no desire to read or write
-have lost all interest in sex
-i would never act on it, but most days i wish my life was just over.
-i have done more sobbing in the last 4 weeks than i have in the last 4 years. most of the time it is out of nowhere and uncontrollable.
and now i see why drs always link depression with anxiety, depression is like being anxious without having the interest or strength to freak out/have a panic attack. but dont worry (god knows im doing enough for the lot of us), the old emily is still here, and i have plently of anxious time inbetween the bouts of hysterical crying, or sometimes the crying and panic occurs at the same time. and thats when it gets really good: i want to rip my skin off my body and run screaming down the middle of the street.
so im going to talk to frank, the triage nurse on wednesday. its a phone interview so i can tell him i need some drugs to survive the daily (ive never wanted to be numb before in my life, but now it sounsd like heaven, i need a break form myself) and some thearpy for after this initial time and to ween off the drugs. if i dont get something in my system to quell these feelings while i work them out, im going to drop out of school, move in with my mom, and work at an FYE for the rest of my life. god, that sounds so comforting. fuck, really comforting. im going to go take a nap.