It’s been a long, long time (I’m talking years) since I’ve felt this way. That nothing really matters, but I don’t really want to die, and that maybe a dark hole to hide in for a while would be a reeeeeeeeeally good idea.
It’s like anxiety hiding, but I have no fear left and apathy is the main contender.
So why do I feel like a deflated ballon that’s been cast aside?
I kinda had a shitty conversation with my psychiatrist today and I can’t stop replaying it.
You see, I’ve been missing a lot of work. I mean, A LOT. My job is super supportive but it’s gotten to the point where I have to basically go on temporary disability while I do my intense therapy and get through this ugly, ugly shit.
And that requires a doctor’s note.
Which means I called my psychiatrist.
I actually really like him, he’s exceedingly thorough and doesn’t immediately jump to, “let’s drown you in drugs!”
But he said something that really cut me to my core. When I explained the situation he said, “I don’t really understand what’s causing the anxiety.”
I kind of had an anxiety attack after we hung up.
Because, I don’t really like talking about it. I don’t want to have people thinking I’m blaming or pointing fingers.
I have insane fears that people will say, “oh that’s it? Geez, wtf” and I can’t get that out of my head.
I’m sad. And I can’t turn it off.