Idk what’s wrong with me - 1 - Sociopath Community

Blanc said:
Honey said:
You dont do anything with your time and monkey brain doesnt like it. If you unplugged from the internet and found a regular productive use of your time you would be fine.
I was very productive before I had a mental breakdown. It didn’t stop me from having one though lol

and like yeah to a certain degree like, I get it I totally get it, but then there is also a part that like is not um, ‘fixed’ by the productivity regardless.

I know it’s frustrating. But yeah at certain points a treatment approach can start to be about living with the disorder rather than curing it completely.

This is what's wrong with you.

People give you answers or suggestions and you make it seem like it couldn't possibly be that , you need to have your way because anyone elses explanation that doesn't align with what you think can't possibly be correct.

You are your own expert in your own bullshit and you won't accept anything else from anyone that isn't named 'Blanc' inb4 explanation why I'm not right/ text wall/ victim act.

I do genuinely have something wrong though. Like technically depression to the point of needing hospitalization from SUI, weighing 80 pounds, and panic attacks like. These are mental disorders I live with. Whatever you want to call it. It’s, a problem.

I am now on medication though so as long as I manage my life properly I do pretty ok most of the time.

according to this months calendar I had two weeks of good mental health and two weeks of bad mental health. So I guess you could say I am well enough to be a normal functioning human being half of the time.

Which is really good, and considering the place I was in before medication, it’s, an amazing turn around. Because even on my worst days now- they’re not as low and as bad as my worst days when I was most unwell aka at a crisis point. Without medication.

So that is *technically* what’s wrong. To say there is nothing wrong would be, um. Well it would be kind of blind? To like the very obvious which is, the reason I take a pill everyday to stay sane.

Because of that pill I am able to appear like nothing is wrong.

But without it, there is a lot wrong. Very wrong. To the point I cannot get out of bed, not because of the depression, but because of *crippling* anxiety and I don’t use the term crippling casually or lightly. I mean it’s so bad, sustaining constantly, that I actually just start to lose my mind from it and it pushes me to literally slip, out of poor mental health and thus, very skewed and poor judgement, suicide. It’s so bad it pushes me to that point, and I’m not able to resist it. The suicide. It feels extremely out of control when it happens. It’s not like a calm collected, decision.

Anyway so living with a mental health ‘problem’ like this is very dangerous and terrifying. It’s the reason I can’t move too far away from family. Because sometimes I have to call people to sit with me. Because I get scared I’m going to do it again. It makes no sense you think you’d have control but you can actually get so off in the head that when left alone and to ones own devices you can actually commit die, without really wanting to. Beyond your control. It’s like constantly living in the movie bird box. Its terrible.

the medication makes me not see the monsters that make me commit die. Like the Invisible monsters in bird box.

but yeah... anyways. It’s really scary? And like it’s frustrating when people say you don’t have mental health problems.

Lol

Yes I can seem fine. Thank god. It wasn’t always that way. I didn’t think it would ever even be possible for me to live a normal life my head pre-treatment was so scrambled! And I had copious amounts of anxiety and depression I was drowning in it. It was more than one person can possibly cope with. Like a tsunami of it. You know? It was too fuckin much.

And yeah like, I couldn’t even think straight. I couldn’t talk straight and make sense because my head was so scrambled and my speech would be so pressured from anxiety I’d be like shaking at the dinner table and then randomly crying a lot and then like laying in bed for days on end, unable to move from anxiety, or just lay there shaking and having panic attacks from the shit in my head that I couldn’t like turn off. I got down to 80 pounds because I just stopped eating because I wanted to die. And on top of that had dissociation. Huge like fits of anger and just pure rage. And then like, other times I would just scream and cry in a corner from the stress. If it wasn’t that it was panic attacks, to the point I couldn’t go anywhere anymore I couldn’t watch the news I couldn’t handle even a conversation with people, not without benzos. I couldn’t eat, not without benzos. I couldn’t go to a restaurant or a movie theater. Everything was just triggering as fuck for no reason. And on top of that I would dissociate, which was really scary for me because I didn’t know what the fuck was going on, and one time it happened in class and I literally freaked out and had to leave. It also happened at work while I was freshly out of treatment and not doing that well yet. And I literally freaked out and had to leave work to go be with someone because I felt like slipping out of control again and that insane heavy detachment from everything is like terrifying. I had panic attacks at work and had to lock myself in a room and freak out in there alone trying to calm myself down like counting shit like a mental case.

It wasn’t cute and it was not a way to live like it was terrible

so I’m just really glad for the medication I can’t even begin to describe the 180 it made of a difference for me and what it felt like before vs what it feels like now. But like just know I’m dead serious when I say I had zero normalcy. I had zero ability to feel normal, 100% of the time. Before medication.

So yeah, to say there is not something wrong is literally like wow.

I couldn’t even handle basic triggers in a mental hospital, like someone just said the wrong word and I was sent over the edge with panic attacks to the point of needing medication intervention and,... I couldn’t go to the cafeteria at first. But eventually when I was able to I couldn’t handle it for very long without getting sent over the edge. And then when I was able to handle it I was not handling it well. And that was evident.

I would sit there in a mental hospital cafeteria with my hands over my ears and my eyes shut face down on the table with a hoodie on like losing my fucking mind my legs shaking and shit. And then I would take these notes out of my pocket and read them like whispering them to myself and crying because it was the only words that, helped me hold onto my sanity and I read those notes over and over and over again. I was face down in the grass when it was time for recess outside because I was so fucking suicidal I just didn’t care and was so tired I just wanted to sleep but they were always trying to keep me awake telling me not the avoid by sleeping. I would just think incessantly about suicide. To the point even on my return home sharp objects had to be removed from the premisces and I wasn’t allowed to be left alone. I was filled with so much dispair I wouldn’t of gotten to my out patient therapy if it weren’t for being dragged to it by my mom. And I just slept the whole car ride in this fog of depression and like, you’re incapacitated by this chronic fatigue.

At one point I slept in my bed for months and I couldn’t recognize myself in the mirror. People would try to drag me out of the bed do whatever they could to motivate me out of bed offer me money, offer me punishment. Pep talks. Screaming at me. I even got really sick at one point and just let myself stay sick. Self neglect. I didn’t want to be that way it just was what it was. I was like mentally not right.

I tried a lot of shit to like appease my problems, the good the bad the ugly and when I realized nothing would work it had gotten to such a point I was so desperate to find normalcy again I was so close to the brink of just losing that battle to mental illness that I would do and try anything. I had truly lost all hope and, I felt incapable of getting better. But it was the desperation that allowed me to go through with accepting the help, despite being unsure it would work.

When I first started feeling the positive effects of my medication, I remember going for a walk with my family. And I looked around at the trees and the sunny park and I just was like “hm, I never noticed any of this before.” And had for the first time an appreciation for the blue sky, the sun, the feeing of the breeze, the sound and the visual aspect of the wind and sun moving through the leaves of the trees. And I felt a feeling that I had never felt before. I don’t know what that feeling was but I think now I understand it simply to be, happiness.

Eventually I was able to smile more, and people started to say I seemed more like my old self, years into the recovery process. I was like miserable fuck and then I became less miserable fuck. And more functional thanhowni was at my worst point.

and let’s not forget that lovely eating disorder I had majority of my childhood that nearly killed me from heart failure. That was a really fun one. Oh yes. So fun.

So yeah... I didn’t like choose these things or want these things. And by asking what’s wrong, I’m not insinuating I want there to be a problem where there is none.

imtruing to take inventory to gain over sight to where things could be improved with work and effort for my ultimate well being