Wednesday, 9 September 2015

Oh dear me, anxiety

My brain is not working properly. I tried writing the post I had planned but I can't string my words together. And writing is one of the few things that I'm not frightened of. I could do housework - folding washing and wiping stuff is satisfying and kind of therapeutic... but then I get anxious about what will happen when I finish. A tidy house means a wide open space with nothing and no-one.

Everything is scary right now: the wind, the rain, roads, cars, planes, loud voices, the news, letters, phone calls, the weekend, bills, and the text alert on my mobile. Basically, everything outside my front door and some things inside my house too. Damned amygdala! It has got things all wrong, and being awake is horrible. All the freaking out is freaking me out, so I have done something. I have booked in to see my psychiatrist, and I'm going to ask for the dreaded antidepressant medication. I don't know if I'll take them yet - I might just look at them. But at least I won't go into this weekend empty handed. My tank is all but empty, and I don't have the resources to get out of this very, very, very, deep hole that I am in on my own.




UPDATE:

Got them! Looking at the box.


xx




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