Living with post traumatic stress disorder and her bluesy sister, depression, has drastically changed how I handle everyday life. Anxiety and lethargy applied for permanent residence in my body, and I thought I had to fight to have their applications thrown out. Turns out I didn’t have to fight, I had to give up and stop trying to control everything.
No matter how ready this anxiety is trying to make me, there is no way to prepare for doom. Living in fear is a kind of hell.
I’m not incredibly sad all the time. I don’t feel much of anything most of the time. I’m not just sadder than I used to be, I’m less everything.
Up and down emotions. One moment I feel excited and ready to try something new, and the next I am afraid of rejection and hide back in my bed.
Where is the inspiration I used to have? It feels weird to be an adult and sometimes feel like the same sad little kid I once was.
Imagine my surprise when I looked in the mirror and I wasn’t there. I couldn’t see myself, at all. I also couldn’t remember what I looked like. Have you ever had to search for something when you had no idea what that thing looked like? It’s not very easy. I have a vivid imagination and fancy…
My last blog post on depression and expats sparked some interesting discussions on LinkedIn. Unfortunately, I accidentally deleted the thread when I got pissed at my non-responding mouse and started clicking it like a madwoman. In my fury of clicks it responded, just to delete a very productive conversation. Thanks technology. I’m going to follow…
[dt_quote type=”pullquote” layout=”left” font_size=”big” animation=”none” size=”1″]Now it is 11am on the 16th. I barely slept. My anxiety is through the roof. My heart is racing, my head is in a nervous fog, my stomach is tied up in knots and I could throw up. I’m holding something in, but what? What is weighing so heavily…
I write for a living. I write about myself and about the world. The façade I put on is that I do not fear self-analysis. I seem to be a person unafraid of being intimate with myself. That is my dirty secret. I continue to move and flee to all ends of the earth mostly…
It’s the holiday season and the new year is upon us. The holidays are not always an easy time of year—many of us are missing loved ones, while others are struggling with mental illness that stand in the way of feeling happy.
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911
The Americas
112
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112 & 999
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112, 999, 110
Asia
112, 911, 999, 111, & 000
Oceania
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