I can't work, I can't think, I can't do anything.
No sleep for me tonight probably.
Wednesday 17 February 2010
Isolation
It's so incredibly isolating being anxious. At least I think it's the anxiety, and not just me. No one seems to truly understand me at all. Perhaps none of us can be understood? Perhaps it is human nature to be locked in our own little world, trapped inside our own consciousness.
Sometimes I wish people cared more. I feel so alone all the time, and I find myself dwelling on every little thing that has ever happened. OCD doesn't just control my life through compulsions, it keeps me in a state of continuous self-loathing where every negative comment, every negative thought I have ever experienced is constantly there in the back of my mind.
I just wish I had the reassurance that I wasn't such a horrible, messed up little girl. I wish someone could make me feel better about myself, but I don't think they can. I'm just something that people are used to, taken for granted. People may be used to my little habits, but they don't understand. How can they? How can anyone know what it is like to suffer with constant obsessions, how can they understand the *need* to be constantly reassured that everything is okay?
Those closest to you aren't immune to assumptions about mental health, aren't exempt from showing the same stigma. Whether it's a tired expression, or accusations of self pity and attention seeking, or just that look that reveals their lack of empathy.
And how much is the illness and how much is just me? It all comes back to this constant obsession that it might just be me, that there might be something wrong with me.
I just want to be looked after. I want to be wanted. I just want to know that I mean something and that I'm not just this burden that won't go away. I wish people would just contact me to see how I am, to let me know they are thinking about me, or just because they can. I want be special for a change.
But I'm just not. And people are fed up of me moaning. My head is so full of things that no one knows.
Sometimes I wish people cared more. I feel so alone all the time, and I find myself dwelling on every little thing that has ever happened. OCD doesn't just control my life through compulsions, it keeps me in a state of continuous self-loathing where every negative comment, every negative thought I have ever experienced is constantly there in the back of my mind.
I just wish I had the reassurance that I wasn't such a horrible, messed up little girl. I wish someone could make me feel better about myself, but I don't think they can. I'm just something that people are used to, taken for granted. People may be used to my little habits, but they don't understand. How can they? How can anyone know what it is like to suffer with constant obsessions, how can they understand the *need* to be constantly reassured that everything is okay?
Those closest to you aren't immune to assumptions about mental health, aren't exempt from showing the same stigma. Whether it's a tired expression, or accusations of self pity and attention seeking, or just that look that reveals their lack of empathy.
And how much is the illness and how much is just me? It all comes back to this constant obsession that it might just be me, that there might be something wrong with me.
I just want to be looked after. I want to be wanted. I just want to know that I mean something and that I'm not just this burden that won't go away. I wish people would just contact me to see how I am, to let me know they are thinking about me, or just because they can. I want be special for a change.
But I'm just not. And people are fed up of me moaning. My head is so full of things that no one knows.
Sunday 7 February 2010
Waiting
The thing that annoys me more than anything about suffering from a mental health problem is the time it takes for every stage of the process:
Visit the doctor. Wait. Invite for referral appointment. Wait. Appointment. Wait. Second Appointment. Wait. Diagnosis. Wait. Treatment Plan. Wait. Treatment.
I understand the NHS has a lot of patients, many of whom will have serious and life threatening conditions that need a lot more time and money than those of us with depression, anxiety and other disorders, but I can't help but feel mental health isn't taken seriously. Anxiety has a massive impact on a person's life, and when you are so frightened you are redued to merely shaking, you shouldn't be expected to wait.
Two months has passed since I saw my doctor. I have no fixed diagnosis, no treatment plan, no number to phone in a crisis. Nothing. And the longer I wait, the more anxious I become that they are just going to forget. I hate living with this anxiety and yet even when I ask for help, nothing seems to happen.
Visit the doctor. Wait. Invite for referral appointment. Wait. Appointment. Wait. Second Appointment. Wait. Diagnosis. Wait. Treatment Plan. Wait. Treatment.
I understand the NHS has a lot of patients, many of whom will have serious and life threatening conditions that need a lot more time and money than those of us with depression, anxiety and other disorders, but I can't help but feel mental health isn't taken seriously. Anxiety has a massive impact on a person's life, and when you are so frightened you are redued to merely shaking, you shouldn't be expected to wait.
Two months has passed since I saw my doctor. I have no fixed diagnosis, no treatment plan, no number to phone in a crisis. Nothing. And the longer I wait, the more anxious I become that they are just going to forget. I hate living with this anxiety and yet even when I ask for help, nothing seems to happen.
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