Meds and Kitties

Posted on July 16, 2016

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Ladies and gentlemen, I am officially crazy.

Like, meds-dependent crazy. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression yesterday.

All my life I thought it was all in my head, that this is just a phase I can’t get out of because I am a hopeless piece of trash. But ever since I sought help on my own, I have confirmed that there really is something wrong with my brain which has gotten worse and misunderstood.

Escitalopram. Quetiapine. These words sound so foreign to me, but they shouldn’t because I have to get used to them. I’m little nervous about taking them, but I guess that’s a lot better than self-medication and taking paracetamols for every other ache that I feel. That is, if I even feel any aching at this point. I’m losing the energy to do anything. I’m writing less, eating less, interacting less, enjoying less. I’m too tired to do anything, I’m too tired to get angry or sad or happy. I’m even too tired to finish this blog post which should be overflowing with words during the first five minutes since this is a topic I would gladly rant about. But no. I’m just really tired. Everything hurts and I’m tired.

I swear, I’m really trying to get better. I’ve been doing yoga, running around, cleaning stuff, attempting to see friends, taking care of my cactus, distracting myself with happy things and places that aren’t my room. I want to get better for me, but mostly so the people I care about and love won’t get disappointed and tired anymore.

They don’t tell it to me, but I know they’re getting tired of me.

And I won’t blame them. They can’t hate me more than I hate myself. Even I can’t stand myself. How can people love someone like me – someone constantly anxious and defective? Someone who has a lot of triggers, someone who has a lot of drama? People want to feel good, and I feel really bad that I can’t do that. I never do anything good. No matter how hard I try, everything I do is a mistake.

I’m really going to try my best this time to be…normal. To be better. To be the daughter my parents deserve, to be the burst of sunshine type of friend, to be the kind of girl some guy would be proud of. I can’t be that girl right now but I swear I’m killing myself trying to be her.

Like the world right now, I too am struggling towards normalcy. I strive to take my meds, continue therapy, fix my career, and be better. I guess deep inside I know I am not a lost cause yet, because I still don’t want to believe that anyone is a lost cause.

A friend of mine who supported me in seeking professional help owns a cat she rescued from the street. I slept next to that cat last night, and it felt great. Despite being a dog person, I am slowly getting convinced to own a pet cat – most likely after I get my own place, whenever that may be. A cat isn’t really that much work, I guess. At least they know that sometimes it is enough to just be there for someone without doing anything. And sometimes, that is all we need to get through the day.

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