After days of what feels like a ridiculous defeat I prepared myself last night for a day of ‘do whatever it takes to get to work.’ I haven’t struggled this bad with anxiety in a long time, I know PTSD echoes a lot of the symptoms of anxiety but recently over the past few months I’ve been dealing with other things (such as coping strategies, intrusive thoughts, memories – ‘flashbacks?’ and other stuff.) So the return of anxiety has hit me real hard…

A few weeks back I started experiencing horrendous anxiety, it stopped me from doing a lot of stuff, and along came the frustration, the fear and everything else. I’d dealt with it before though, but it was of course a lot to take in, and it’s felt far more intense this time around.

I had my medication altered and thankfully it seemed to really help (despite not actually being able to stay awake). I had been struggling with sleep, the panic at night was awful. Trying to sleep when my chest felt like it was destroying everything was slightly tricky, and then dealing with the nightmares was so much fun. (Sarcasm). Yet somehow, as I always do, I managed to plod through…

For the past few weeks everytime something feels more ‘intense’ it feels as if it’s never been that ‘intense’ before. (I’m not sure if that last sentence makes sense?) Everything is spiraling deeper and darker, each time it shocks me and then the whole cycle repeats itself… if I was digging to Australia I’d be there by now.

Anyway, back to today… last week and this week has been a concoction of struggling to get out of bed, horrendous nightmares, awful episodes of binge eating, hating the world, hating myself and feeling like I’m never gunna be able to move. Ever. Blogging has helped, heck – blogging has pretty much been the only productive thing I’ve been able to do for the last few weeks. I worry, I really worry that people who know me will see my blog and think ‘well she can blog so surely she can get up, out and take on the world?’ Yeah – I’ve been thinking that too.

Blogging has been the only break amidst the intensity of things lately. Scrolling through Pinterest and finding pictures of goldfish, writing exactly how I’m feeling – putting that into a never-ending stream of words, uploading it here and then reading peoples response is about the only thing that I feel has kept me connected to the ‘real’ world, and actually made me want to do productive things. (Of course – the internet might not actually be the ‘real’ world, but it’s more ‘real’ than my nightmares, however vivid they may be.)

So today… I kind of forced myself to get my act together – I tried last week and the aftermath was awful. One day of trying to do work led to two days of ‘crap’ (that’s the best way I can explain it…) I’ve not struggled like this in a long time, and I think it’s finally starting to show, I’m very good at ‘getting on with things’ but recently I haven’t been. I have what seems like an endless amount of emails to filter through, and a dissertation to start (yelp). I’ve lost the will to do anything, and I’ve lost the energy to actually care about things that mean a lot to me (such as writing, and studying – as geeky as it sounds).

The anxiety and panic that takes over my mind and body everytime I even think about leaving my flat is just too much to handle. Yet today I did. Yay. Celebrate each success – no matter how small? No. I have far too much to catch up on, and this isn’t a story with romantic notions and an underlying message of ‘actually it’s alright to do nothing, and let the panic win.’ No, I have shizzle to do, and quite frankly this time around PTSD, anxiety or whatever this rubbish is called has stopped me from functioning and I’m not happy about it. Even opening up documents and beginning to type, making toast and deciding whether or not to have jam, trying to decide whether or not to shower now or later – all those things have overwhelmed me (just today).

It’s when you want to cry at the prospect of making toast that you know you need to get your shiz together.

I had a horrible panic attack in the back of the taxi on my way in (I ordered a taxi as my legs most likely would’ve scurried back toward the flat at the slightest sign of hesitation). Everything just seemed too much, the rain was out to get me, and the heat was unbearable. The railings on the fence outside the window kept moving… the blue paint mocking me, as it stood there all cool, blocking me out from the rest of the world. The car was moving too slow, the car was moving too fast. The taxi driver could tell I was being odd, and everything was just far too intense. (Trust me, I know this sounds dramatic – I had to live it haha, I also know it sounds completely silly… welcome to my brain haha).

Right now, everything seems a lot brighter, I swear  I’m seeing colours I’ve never seen before? I think if I wasn’t writing this blog post right now I’d be a crumpled mess, staring at everything like a rabbit caught in the headlights…

I feel awful, absolutely awful right now, but I’m here – I feel stupid for feeling this way. I’m weak, rubbish and a loser. (I’m not). But I made it here (haha how cheesy) so lets see how much more I can achieve today…

*Deep breaths, deep breaths.*