You’re just sitting around minding your business when a thought pops into your head.
It’s intrusive and overbearing and nauseating.
It’s the last thing you want on your mind.
So you try to dispel the thought from your consciousness.
You beg and plead for it to go away. You try to turn it off by distracting yourself with an endless stream of shows and status updates, but there is no escaping it.
And after a while, you start to believe it.
You are worthless.
You are broken.
You are a piece of shit.
You are not good enough. And you never will be.
In fact, everyone is better off without you.
Those thoughts permeate your entire being, mulitplying with every second. Until that intrusive thought is not just a thought.
It’s now an undeniable fact that you hold dear. It’s what you believe about yourself.
It’s your depression taking hold of you, making it nearly impossible to fight back.
But we keep fighting anyway. ❤
The feeling you get when you want to speak and you don’t know what to say, or how to say it.
Being at a loss for words has been something I’ve struggled with throughout my depression.
Silence brushes over you like the water caressing your feet at the beach while you just sit and stare off into the distance.
But the words won’t come.
Speaking feels impossible.
Hell, opening your mouth feels impossible.
The most you can muster is, “I’m fine”.
Because nothing else feels quite right.
The silence is deafening and comforting, all at once.
No one seems to understand, so you keep the words trapped in your head.
Trapped in your depression.
You know that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach that no amount of deep breathing can wash away?
No matter what you try, the anxiety builds. The feeling starts to move up to the top of your stomach until it finally reaches your chest.
Then you feel like you can’t speak. You can’t breathe. The anxiety that usually only preoccupies your mind has now taken over your entire body and you have no adequate recourse.
You tell yourself, it’s okay…this too shall pass. But that just makes it worse. Like you’re taunting yourself.
Deep breathing doesn’t work.
Counting backwards doesn’t work.
Your mind can’t be distracted.
So you decide to get all of your worries out:
Why doesn’t anyone like me? What if I’m not good enough? What if they judge me? Why do people suck? Why do I suck? Why can’t I be normal?
Finally, you take another deep breathe as you let the thoughts float in and out of your consciousness.
You smile as the anxiety sinks back down.
You survived your anxiety attack.
Small victories are the backbone to mental health. Without them, you can’t stand tall.