Things have been a bit tough for me recently. Actually that’s a lie. Things have been pretty damn awful for me recently. Not through any outward situation, just the things that are going on in my head. I’m still trying to adjust to the fact I have a personality disorder rather than anxiety and depression. Actually that’s wrong too, I’m trying to adjust to the fact I have a personality disorder and that my anxiety and depression are a symptom of it rather than the diagnosed illness.
You see it was 13 years ago that I was given those labels. I have learned to love them, understand them and wear them with pride. I learned to cope with them, I learned tools and techniques to help me get through. With them I knew where I stood. I fit into the box I was given and just ignored the things nagged at me and told me it was more than that. I know in the long run that it’s a good thing. I know that the tools and techniques I already have are still valid and useful. I know rationally that I can now get the help I need – in fact those cogs are already in motion. But in my irrational head I’m screaming to run back to the safety of the labels I’ve had for so long even though I know they’re wrong. To be honest it’s making me feel more than a little bit crazy.
I can’t remember how I dealt with things when I was first diagnosed with anxiety and depression. I’ve heard stories and I lost friends, but in my memory that time is fuzzy if not completely black. Realistically I imagine that it was as difficult for me to get my head around then as it is for me to comprehend this diagnosis change now. Minute to minute I change my mind on how I feel about it – which is actually part of the illness I know. I feel like it’s pulling me apart. Turning me into two people – one rational, controlled and sensible and one emotional, crazy and uncontrollable. I sound crazy writing this I know I do, and there are probably people who will read it that will think I am, but this is my reality right now. This is what this illness is doing to me. So I push it down, bury it as deep as I can and try to push on. The thing is that when I do that, everything triggers a link to the raw emotions just below the surface and I rather than cry or curl up in a ball I get angry. I get angry when G asks me if I want a coffee, if I have to leave the house, think about something or do something beyond just existing.
So at the moment I don’t really know how to move forward with my life. I don’t know how to make decisions or carry on as normal because it doesn’t feel normal, and I don’t know if the choice I make will be right or whether it will send me spiralling into despair. Things are pretty scary right now, but everyday I find the strength to pull myself together, act normal and keep going to the best of my ability because this can’t be it, there has to be an end. This can only be the storm because right now I don’t really know what I’m feeling. I’m just hoping that when the storm passes I will.