No longer as truthful as should be deserved, some names, places and events deliberately vague to protect identities that aren't mine

Wednesday 20 February 2013

If I told you this was killing me, would you stop?

To say it's been a bad 72 hours would be an understatement.

I've had a panic attack where I couldn't move, one of my best friends had to leave again, I'm skirting the bounds of mental instability and having periodic convulsions as a result, I can't recognise the people I live with, my dad just got admitted to hospital for a mini-stroke, problems with registering with a new doctor means I wont get any of the numerous medications I'm in increasingly dire need of for at least a week, I start work again tomorrow, which is good, but means more stress, and in a short while my boss goes on holiday for an extended period of time so I'll be covering her job as well.

There's other stuff that's going on as well that I can't put down.  And all this in just 72 hours.  Can someone find the remote control for life and press pause?  Very quickly.  Because that skirting the bounds of mental instability thing?  That's not an exagerration at the moment; several people have seen the evidence to back me up on this, and what's going on is making it increasingly hard to stay on the right side of the line.  And I know I'm not the only person that's in this position.  I don't mind the bad stuff happening, it's okay, I'll deal with it, I just need it to spread itself out a bit more.


I'll write more about the mental issues I'm having shortly, I just wanted to get the above into type.

2 comments:

  1. If it's any consolation, you do have an audience that you reach. I, for one, am interested to hear about your life and the happenings within it. Continue writing; write from the heart and let the rawness of your story permeate the platform...even if it takes you a while to gather your thoughts and summon enough energy to allow the words to flow.

    - A Canuck who wishes you well in the face of a storm.

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  2. I hope your life gets better. In the past 6 months I can say I'm recovering from a seven year deep depression, and two of those years I couldn't leave the house, but now I've been learning more about myself and I'm starting to like me a little more day by day. And I hope that you just like me keep fighting and in the end grow a lot more from these experiences.

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