Okay, so this is my first blog post on this website. I was browsing around the internet trying to find somewhere I can just write something about my anxiety, depression, etc. and this will do. I doubt anyone will read these, because I'll probably have long, boring posts...but I definitely needed somewhere I could just vent away.
As of right now I'm freaking out...have anxiety but it hasn't gone into full blown panic attack, that's why I'm writing. I woke up like this. As soon as I opened my eyes I had this tightness in my chest and that "uh-oh, I think I'm going to have a panic attack" feeling.
I realized last night just how all kinds of messed up I am. I don't just have anxiety...I also have major depression, bi-polar disorder, agoraphobia, emetephobia, PTSD, and I've been self-injuring.I could go on but those are the main things right now I believe. Those all cause my anxiety.
I started cutting when I was 17, I'm 25 now. I stopped 2 years ago because it just stopped working for me. I was pissed. Because it REALLY did help. Some people are always like ya ya you did it for attention. No. I would always hide it, always. The only person that knew about it was my mom, dadand my best friend. I hate people seeing my scars now. It is embarassing, but when you feel like you have no where to turn to except cutting you'll take the good with the bad. SO anyway, 4 days ago was the first time I tried doing it again since I stopped. It helped a little bit. It was during a massive panic attack and it did take the edge off so I could compose myself again. But it didn't work like it once had. Once again, I was pissed. Okay, so hide that, no big deal. Maybe I wouldn't do it again since I didn't get the exact results I wanted. But that was completely the opposite of what happened. Since I did it I couldn't stop thinking about doing it again. Not sure why, maybe to see if it would help even more the next time, to have this constant anxiety thatI have to not be so strong. Either way, I wanted to do it. I held off for 2 days and didn't do it, which brings me to yesterday, my 25th birthday. I had to go out with my dad and step mom to lunch, causing me crazy amounts of anxiety through the whole day. I hate the public, I hate food most of the time, I hate it all. It's panic attack inducing, who would want that? But I went. Took xanax. All over. But the anxiety wasn't gone. I carried it through the whole entire day. And if anyone knows how that feels, its exhuasting and frusterating. So, I went into crazy Jenny mode and cut myself again. Took the edge of but the damn anxiety was still there.
Now, I live with my husband and my mom, I just got married a little over a month ago. He knows about all the depression and anxiety and how I used to cut myself. But I didn't want him to know that I did it again, not yet at least, if I told him I wanted it to be on my terms and what I decided to say. Did not work out that way. I thought maybe taking a bath would help relax me, so that's what I did, bubble bath. I was listening to music, crying a little, being depressed and anxious. (When I get anxiety I tend to cry a bit, seems to help). My husband, Dan, walks in. So shit, I sink lower in the tub in the bubbles to cover where I cut myself, which was my upper shoulder...I felt bad but like I said I wanted to tell him on my terms. Not good enough though, he saw it. Asked what happened. Needless to say his initial reaction was pissed at me and he left the room. I stayed there for awhile and then after maybe 15 mintues got out to go talk to him. He told me that if I did it again he would tell my mom about it and that would be horrible because I know the pain she went through when I did it before. And that pisses me off. I mean, yes, I completely understand why you would want me to stop and not do it anymore. I really really do. But telling me that just aggervates me. What if I did do it in a time of panic? Then I would really have to hide it from him because he told me he would tell my mom and drag my ass to a hospital. I guess I can't really be that aggervated though, he's just worried about me. It's like something that you can't live without has been taken from you. Like, you can't live without your cell phone, it's your lifeline to some people...okay I'm going to take that away from you, tough shit. I know I'm comparing cutting to a cell phone and that sounds so stupid, makes sense in my head. And I know I can LIVE without cutting, just as anyone could live without a cell phone, but taking it away from me is not a pleasant feeling. Especially because I've been wanting to do it so bad these past few days.
Anyway, that's it for now. I wouldn't be surprised if I come back in 10 minutes and write another full blown blog.