What does it feel like to have anxiety and depression?

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‘Depression is like going through life like you’re trying to wade through water. Everything is an effort. I just feel so sluggish and slow. And I’ve stopped doing all the things that I used to do – nothing feels good anymore.’

‘Depression to me is like drowning, while everyone else is breathing. It’s also kind of like life in slow motion. It feels like being shackled and having no power or sense of existence. Depression is like being on the outside of everything.’

‘It feels like you can’t breathe in a room full of people, because someone might stare at you if you make the tiniest noise. You feel like everyone is always talking about you, even though they usually aren’t. Depression is different for everyone, as is anxiety, but for me depression is the feeling of being utterly alone no matter what you do. Silently crying for help but no one cares.’

‘It’s shrunk my world to the point where I don’t want to do anything around other people because I’m so terrified of making an idiot of myself.’

‘I worry all of the time; thinking about if I’ll make the bus on time; messing up at work; my daughter having to get back from a club by herself; feeling like I’m going to forget something really important; upsetting a friend; worrying about the future; a cough that just won’t go away. Sometimes I just have a bad feeling, but I can’t even really put my finger on what I’m actually worried about.’

‘(Depression) It’s like stepping into quicksand. Slowly it takes you in, until you are submerged. Can’t breathe, can’t think. After you pass through the sand, you find yourself in a dark, never ending abyss.’

‘(Depression and anxiety) It’s like alternating between feeling stuck in the past and worrying about the future. Like feeling stupid for something you said, and ruminating in that, and then worrying about saying more stupid things the next time you have to go interact with people.’

‘Anxiety is the feeling that rushes through your chest when you are about to miss a step on the staircase or you catch your foot on a crack in the pavement, and you think, for a moment, you are going to fall. it is that feeling, but constant.’

‘My anxiety is like the feeling you get when you begin the swift descent from the highest point of a roller coaster, and your body can’t keep up.’

‘(it) feels incredibly lonely. And the frustrating thing is that things that could help make things better (such being physically active, talking to someone, going out with friends) are so much more difficult to do when you feel depressed and anxious.’

 

https://www.futurelearn.com/courses/anxiety-depression-and-cbt/1/steps/64870

Secrets to live by. The 48-hour rule.

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Secrets to live by. The 48-hour rule.

I ask myself, “If I had 48 hours left to live , what would I do ? “

It makes you push aside anything that’s not truly important and focus on the things you love and make you happy! I would chose love and happiness over fun and a good night out .

It would take a special man.

A man that just “gets me” accepting my flaws and scars alike . I still have baggage that I’ve been working on leaving. I am not fragile living with shame and regret, drinking myself to the bottom of a bottle. Addicted to a kind of burning pain that leaves you mentally wounded . Trying to avoid the thinking,  highly medicated, and drinking.

Accept me as I am, or watch me as I step in these heels and wiggle my ass out the door.

Broken I am not.

A chaotic imperfect hot mess, definitely!

Inhaling the essence of a passionate soul lost long ago.
Gone is the prison and it’s heavy chains, replaced by walls of boundaries, that will not be crossed.

Settling is not an option.

This was the conversation last night  

I have never really gotten into the online dating thing . I am an addict, I have emotional scars , Behind the smile , there are still moments of great shame and regret.  I understand that I can not undo the past, I now put effort into letting  go.  I assume this will be a on going process.

So there it is .. After waiting a few minutes , I was not surprised when the real person showed up. As the conversation went south,  It took no time for me and my new high heels to wiggle my ass out of there .

As i was looking for a taxi , I ran into a friend that I haven’t seen in many years . Bottom line is the night wasn’t wasted.

Yet, I couldn’t  help but  wonder, what was this guy doing while I was sitting there having the all important first date conversation ? As I recall he played with hair quite a bit, and was playing his clothes every 5 secs..

Lets’ just call it a day and  image that somewhere in there was a woman dying to come out and bitch slap him back to the 80’s . .

Apparently, ” I’m a woman” and and I have “feelings” and those” feelings” are activated through my vagina.

How should I process that shit ? I’m dangerous when I know what I am doing and know who’s doing it to me.

I’m dangerous when I know what I am doing and know who’s doing it to me.

When a woman says “don’t make me go there”, wait 2 mins and she’s there .   I don’t negotiate .

 

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You’re lips are not listening

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Your lips are magic, so full and inviting.
But why are they moving when should be listening?
Why don’t you hear me , I have something to say.
You’re getting comfortable, undoing your shirt , there’s no need for that .
And then I feel your breath so close to my face ,
I have turn away, before I walk away. No you’re not listening,
I can’t save this for another day .

I was a cliche: a bird with broken wings-forever caged.
I never took responsibility for this prison I had built for myself. I
instead I blamed others, the people who had hurt me so much that I had swore I’d never fly again.
I thought that I was trapped by the regrets and the loss I had suffered.
Numbing myself, trying not to look at myself
I closed my eyes to something I did not want to see, This will not define me .
Time passed-slowly.
And one day I woke up. There was no more pain, only a strange sense of relief and understanding.
My cage became a sanctuary as my grip on the past loosened. Time passed again, but I was not so lonely; it gave me a chance to learn about forgiveness.
I forgave those who had hurt me and I forgave myself.Suddenly the pain was gone.

Life became valuable again.
I bow my head, I release my sins . And this I say, Amen.
And then,
I was finally free to fly.

That would be me

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“I had a breakdown. I was ( am) totally detached from reality and became numb to my environment. I could no longer feel emotions. What I did experience was shame and guilt as well as intense self-loathing which several times morphed into suicidal ideation. I became afraid of everything. The world overwhelmed and scared me. It was at this time all these horrible memories from my past started rising to the surface. I couldn’t handle the memories and images and the pain they brought. I turned to heavy drug use to totally anesthetize myself. I became reckless, impulsive and developed a total lack of responsibility. I was paranoid and hypervigilant.”

This is how I felt last year and here I am again , minus the heavy drug use and that’s scary. I don’t always feel like me any more, like somewhere along the way I lost myself. I am evolving and changing into someone different, but with some of the same likenesses.

By accident I realize that today is my birthdaytumblr_mnspy3zJou1sop9rfo1_500

So if you see a half crazed happy lady out there making jokes and not having a care in the world, say hi, that would be the old me having one of those rare days.

The Hell With Conversations. Is this a Spiritual Awakening ?

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“The moment when I accepted that I am Addicted.
I became grateful a dopeless hope-fiend,
instead of the hopeless dope-fiend”

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It’s not like it never occurred to me that I was afraid of change .

I am so sick of this baggage. have been here before and I’m not going back again!

Opening my scars

 

The emotions are so raw , it’s hard to not get caught up in it all.

Skipping unhappily down memory lane,

I have stirred the shit up now .
My heart is aching and scarred, All the forgotten memories
turning me upside down again.

I sit, I think , I reflect ,

Another day of looking back at me
Add another page , only to hit delete again.
Not “shit” to say until I release myself from this prison I’ve been in.

Everyday I deal with this, a paragraph at a time .

The sun is too loud , I feel freedom
I’m going to change my ways.

Add another page

Acceptance , and NOT accepting the things that I cannot change.

Not Accepting that Addiction is forever, thinking of the moderation that never came.
Having no faith, the door has always remained open.

It’s been a hot chilly mess that I have been sitting in

And it hits me

Honesty is what I’m dealing with, an emotional intervention.

In the deep of own madness of shame and regret .
So many stories running around in my head, I am breaking the silence with myself.

Self destructive or an Awakening?

 

” Do I give in, give up or get up , wake up and accept right now”

 

Knowing that I had a book in me somewhere.

 I decided to take a timeout and went about the journey of creating a bestseller.

Ok I had maybe 10 pages of nothing  and several software tools for writing .

I had it all planned out.

Setting myself up in a way that I would just talk and let the computer do the rest.

Stocking up on cigarettes, and avoiding everyone I dug in.

The first week was a whole lot of smoking , thinking and deleting .

I read the first few pages. Confused and thinking I did not tell you to write this shit!!

My THOUGHTS: Has my Mac had a crack attack ?

“Time to cut the shit and get busy “, I would get free pass on this . I let my finger get to work and I start over again.

I would have to get honest.

I almost quit then  .  Re-living  this shit is going to kill me !

That was four weeks ago , I am not dead . Just a bruised and bandaged

Spiritual Awakening ?   I fucking hope so.

 

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Not Bipolar Anymore ?

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I am my own midlife crisis

It sucks
I am not alone
I talk a lot

I overdo everything, eating, sharing, drinking , there I said it. Need I say more, you get the idea.
Depression strikes often ,a song can drive me to call the nearest hotline.

I am bipolar
Somedays, I think I am not bipolar, these days I am manic, maybe not.
I anger too easily.
I hate being alone
I am alone
I enjoy being alone
I still procrastinate on everything including this post as it was once abandoned,
until Tomorrow?
I suck at commitments
I hate being sober, it causes pain
I love being sober,I get honest
Regrets, Yes
Relapse. Not

What am I doing?

I forgot that I am not bipolar anymore
?

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SKINNED KNEES, WHERE IS THE DAMN ICE-CREAM MAN ?

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Soda becomes beer. Bikes become cars. Imagination fades and incomes lack of ambition.

Remember when Mom yelled out “ dinner’s ready “, washing up was the last thing on your mind . Dad’s shoulders were the highest place on Earth and was your hero?

 

Race issues were only about who ran the fastest, and War was only a card game. Waiting for the best part of the day and screaming your head off as if your life depended on it, “ the ice-cream truck is coming !“, and whoever tossed the quarter out was the day’s hero, whether it be mom, dad or the old lady next door.

 

Those summer days when you could count on grabbing a quick bowl of cereal, throwing on your play clothes. God forbid the school clothes or church clothes. Just a pair of shorts and a top, running out the house kissing my goodbye with promises of checking in. Your mission was waiting for your friends to join you.

 

On our planet at the time , no talk of parents fighting, separation of families, no understanding of the alcoholic parent or who has the best cell phone, what the hell was a IPhone? If it wasn’t the latest toy that could measure up to my Big Wheel, Baby Alive Doll or the latest G.I Joe Doll from the kid down the street, tagging along with him was his thumb sucking brother blanket in tow.
Building forts, playing school ( why we did this I still can’t understand, but it was the game I enjoyed most).

 

None of us knew about Addiction, the pain that follows Love and it’s up’s and down’s. Being a single parent and it’s struggles. Most of us hadn’t even learned about sex, and those of us that had even a hint of what it was thought it was ukkie, nasty, plain gross.

 

Mental disorders such as bipolar, ADHD, Depression, Anxiety or Addiction etc… really meant crazy, people we never saw. The most pain you felt was when you skinned your knee, and goodbyes only meant till tomorrow?

 

And we couldn’t wait to grow up…

 

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