Hello, anxiety.

I’ve been trying not to write about stuff I’m going through because I don’t want to be a downer and no one wants to read about someone’s bout with anxiety. But things have been so fracked up with this pandemic you can read about something unsettling somewhere else every day anyway. (Don’t believe me? Read the local news and the absurdity of the people working for the government and you’ll get what I mean.)

Besides, I thought, if I am fortunate enough to survive this, I might as well document both the good and bad.

The past few days were tough for me. I have not been sleeping at night (sometimes I don’t sleep at all) and feel very tired and lethargic by the day. I have sudden, unexplained chest pains, stomachache, and headache. I don’t feel like doing anything; I didn’t have the desire to eat or write—two of my favorite things to do. I’m so stressed that I get irritable and sensitive at the slightest stir. While I haven’t cried myself to sleep or sobbed for no reason, I feel empty and numb. To simply put, there’s that overall feeling of not feeling well. A depressive episode, if you will.

At first, I chalked it up to hormones. But when it didn’t go away for days, I knew I had to stop and acknowledge that anxiety is real.

The Final Nail

Remind me again that it’s never good to have too much hope and faith in some people. Those who are obviously crying for help and is already self-destructing but when you try to pull them up from where they are, they refuse. You can only do so much because you can’t help a person who wouldn’t participate in their own rescue. 

It seems like they’re already addicted to the feeling of being sad that wallowing in self-pity is already home for them. I read somewhere that, “trying to help someone who doesn’t want or isn’t ready to be helped is a noble effort, but ultimately it’s like asking to be punched in the face.” 

Well, I got punched in the face. And that fu**ing sucks. 

Snap out the funk

Just a few mornings ago, I received a message from my cousin from Sweden. She asked if I was okay because she noticed that my blog posts the past few days seem…sad.

The truth is, while I’m not particularly depressed, I also couldn’t say that everything’s okay. After all, it’s hard to be in high spirits with what’s happening right now with the pandemic and all. Now more than ever, I’m beginning to understand how staying indoors can take its toll on anyone’s mental health. I am a creature of habit, and there are things I do that give me fulfillment. Self-isolation had put most of those everyday distractions on hold indefinitely.

The current issues that I read and hear about, plus the clownery that is our government, stress me out every single day. Probably stemming from the same stress and frustration is the general malaise I’ve been having the past few days. It can be anything from stomachache, headache, dizziness, nausea, lower back pain, feeling fat and fugly and…you guessed it right...being sad for no clear reason at all.