TW: I actually found *myself* triggered as I wrote about this topic which is partially why it's late. This took several sessions to sit down and write. If you are sensitive like me and particularly prone to anxiety/panic when reading specific descriptions of the symptoms, maybe consider skipping this one. At least stay in tune … Continue reading The Evolution Of My Panic Attacks
Last summer, I had the incredible blessing of being near home for the summer - to make it even better, Nicholas and I were able to visit our hometown and spend the Fourth of July holiday with our best friends. Looking back on it now, I can better appreciate how blessed we were to have … Continue reading Highly Sensitive Person Alert! HSP IS NOT BULLSHIT!!!
The past week has been... a ride. It reminded me that recovery is far from linear, and things might set you back, but all you can do is keep moving forward. One of the more notable things that has happened is my recent contact with my ex, Pisces. Our conversations have been cordial with some … Continue reading Mental Health Progress is Not a Straight Line
Recently, I started taking Lexapro again a little over a year after I stopped taking them. This time last year, I had tapered off of a 20 mg prescription that I was on for about three years. When I first started taking it, my reasoning was similar to why I started it again this time: … Continue reading “I caved in” and other harmful phrases used by our internal dialogue
The past 24 hours have been... immeasurably difficult. Last night, I had a panic attack after having some very uncomfortable and never-before-felt chest pain out of absolutely fucking nowhere. I took my blood pressure and the measurement was the highest it's ever been - like, cardiac event high. This, unsurprisingly, scared the shit out of … Continue reading Barely Holding It Together
Right now, I’m standing in the middle of an abandoned highway. The headlights on the horizon are unmistakable - my depression, barreling towards me at a blinding 100 mph. On the other side, a pair of tail lights are all that’s left of my anxiety, retreating into the darkness. I’m clutching a prescription for Ativan and discharge papers that say the same shit as every other time I’ve made my husband sit in a sterile room into the wee hours of the night with me - “ANXIETY DISORDER UNSPECIFIED”.
