Have you ever stayed quiet when you just wanted to scream?
Have you lost count of the times you choked back what you wanted to say to avoid a conflict?
Do you avoid talking about your feelings because you feel like a burden?
Do you just keep burying and burying?
Do you try to move forward but can't figure out why you feel like you're wading through quicksand?
I know those feelings. I've been there myself. You feel like you're either going to drown in your own feelings or boil over with all of the emotions that you've kept inside.
You always feel on edge or close to a breakdown. You struggle with everyday activities like brushing your hair or getting dressed.
You feel hopeless while also feeling guilty about not being able to do anything. You feel like nothing you can do is ever right. It feels like the world is against you as one thing after another goes wrong.
For me, just a few years ago, this was my everyday. I was constantly panicked and worried. I couldn't sleep, and I barely ate. There were so many thoughts circling through my head all of the time. I thought I could handle all of those feelings on my own.
But I couldn't.
I struggled. Every. Single. Day.
I had to keep pushing, though because I had a baby to take care of. If nothing else, he needed me.
So I booked myself an appointment for therapy. I went and saw my primary care doctor.
My doctor put me on my first med. It made me sleep for twelve hours a day.
Luckily, I had help with my son so I could figure this all out.
We tried another med. I had an allergic reaction to it.
The next. Same reaction.
Now my legs and arms were torn up from the reaction, I was still not able to function, and my son was missing out on time with me because I couldn't get control of it.
Then I started therapy.
My therapist was a wonderful, helpful person. They helped me work through what was bothering me.
Over the course of two sessions, I was already starting to feel better. I was able to start taking better care of myself. I wasn't a complete zombie.
With more sessions, I learned to cope with things that were thrown at me instead of immediately panicking.
My panic attacks subsided.
Eventually, my doctor found a med that worked for me. I was diagnosed with high functioning anxiety because I was able to control myself in public places.
However, I still felt silenced. Like I couldn't talk about my issues with anyone.
I felt isolated. Like I shouldn't and couldn't rely on others.
I knew that wasn't true. Logically, I knew my friends and family had my back.
But in my head, I couldn't tune out that inner voice that told me I was worthless, friendless, a terrible mother, child, wife, friend.
The voice never stopped. It kept digging at me and digging.
Until one day, it finally stopped.
I was taken off of the med. I continued therapy.
I got better.
Now, I'm not perfect about it. I still have moments of doubt. I still have issues.
But now I can cope with them. I can handle panic attacks, as infrequent as they are.
The point of all of this is that there is no shame in getting help. Ask for help; get help. Reach out. I know it's hard.
And those who aren't going through this but think maybe a friend of theirs may, don't wait to offer a helping hand. They may struggle with reaching out.