What does it feel like to have anxiety and depression?



‘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.’




Scraped knees and all … let’s crawl






A beautiful yet chaotic mind.


Some years you crawl and you swear you’ll never walk again.

Then suddenly you’re standing and swear, never, will I crawl again.


A kind heart has held darkness,  a brilliant mind has felt madness,

Leaving a beautiful soul in a state of emotional purgatory.


Stroking my aggression, in hopes that  I can roll my eyes

  and forget that it  happened again . 


How did we arrive here,  what is the rush ?

Scraped knees and all, I whispered let’s crawl ..

I watched , yet I could not help you .

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Why are you so angry ?

Since that day when it all happened , you have changed. I was there that day too. I watched as you , I felt your pain yet I could not help you I saw all the people , the ones that have made you who you are fell to pieces .

The strong one , the bad chick, the victim, the educated one, the drug addict, the alcoholic, the co-dependent, the 16 yr girl who appears all too often, the compassionate one, the relapse queen who seems to be addicted to her pain.

I watched , yet I could not help you .

What had happened ? Why are you on the floor?

One day turned into two days, and into months .

I could see that were not yourself and in need of help. Hello “new you” , no reply! She doesn’t listen anymore . Shaking my head,  wondering about this new you.

What’s going to happen to me .

I watched , yet I could not help you .

The new you has been sitting in the same spot for months now . What are you staring at ? Is it really so bad that you won’t let me back in to help you ?

Your crying is silent , not to be heard . The frustration and despair only I can see,has now become we.  I watch as you try to manage a simple conversation. Only you and I know that you are not listening , not because you don’t want too.. You can’t.

I watched , yet I could not help you .

The bills are unopened , the dishes are stacked up and the cupboards are empty.

I see you trying hard to remember what day it is, why bother you don’t care . Things that were important , have no meaning for you . There are no appointments in the place that have gone to hide .

I think that you might need some help.

Hello you, it’s always been there, these memories that were so deep. Come get on your feet and let it go. Brush it off as fast as you can, being stuck here in this hiding place is closing in on you. Get up,and let me back in.

I watched you , yet I could not help you .

Struggling with the aggression and resentment. We get together as best as we can. You realize that you have changed . And then the anger came.

Is that why you have turned so hard? Look in the mirror, who do you see?

I watched , yet I could not help you . The reflection looking back at you is me .


Italianeat , A better life

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deep unmedicated and unsupervised






And it goes like this

 This is the true story

Or it could be fiction, the kind of fiction that could only be true.

A lot has been said about me, and you can bet your ass people will always start off with the bad stuff.You’re going to hear about that later. But for now I’m on the right side of being wrong. I’m just going to tell it the best way I know how. It so happens I’m talking about bad timing. either I’m always late or later.

If I didn’t answer  I’m not coming.

In this case I should’ve been there two weeks earlier. Okay let’s get to the point it’s about a man, boundaries, lust ( that too) and it’s aftermath .

Or maybe I was just so fucked up at that time everything would have been a risk. I was broken , I was damaged and self esteem was a distant memory.
I’m also one of those kick ass chicks that your mother warned you about.
I’m a drug addict, I ran with the big boys , either on the back of a Harley yep that’s me one of the old ladies. And make no mistake it had its perks.

But this isn’t about my addiction and my ongoing struggles with recovery.
It took some time, I’ve seen the inside of rehab clinics in many different states and countries. I’m happy to say that I’m a recovering drug addict when I am not relapsing . There’s a lot of recovery when relapse is always just around the corner. And you guessed it I’m always on the corner of relapse.  However, lately I wanted to understand why I hurt so bad, I’m damaged and damned pissed off about it.I became very serious and wanting to know what caused all this damaged. You guessed it dysfunctional right from the start. This story is about a lust, passion , desire. and sex.

I can say without a doubt the flying monkey’s have been unleashed .

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Secrets to live by. The 48-hour rule.


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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The real trouble with reality is that there’s no background music.



We all have those crazy, crappy moments. We’ve all been hurt, we’ve all tried to pick ourselves up from whatever dust we are in. And though we’ve experienced pain, in the end, we know it is for the better.

I’m not happy with all the crap I have had to endure, but I am beginning to acknowledge that I am stronger for it.  I’ve grown, changed, learned, fought, won, and loss.  I’ve been hurt, but never broken, beaten but never defeated and I know I will never give up.  I’ve gained the strength to carry my heart on my sleeve and learned how to put it’s pieces back together.  The past doesn’t hold me any longer I can now face any future with a level of determination I did not possess when I was younger.

I want people to see that there is a way out, in their own time, and in their own way. That the road rarely ends at one dark point. What keeps us going is hope.


To sum up, I suppose, I’ve learned that situations can make life seem very black and not worth living, but getting through those dark valleys proves that life will continue, for better or worse.  The struggles and obstacles that seemed insurmountable and unacceptable before have been gotten through and are now behind me.  

I do hate my dark past, but the funny thing of it is… I am also grateful for it too. I couldn’t have been as strong, as I am now, without it.




The Hell With Conversations. Is this a Spiritual Awakening ?


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



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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