I remember my old social worker writing in a report that I “suffered severe and persistent anxiety”, and me arguing with her that I was not at all an anxious person. Ha! All I can say is that I must have been thinking about someone else . . .Anxiety has had me by the throat the last couple of days. It intensifies the paranoia and comes with side orders of self hatred and shame. It keeps making me think I want to die.
I spoke to my CPN earlier. She suggested that I call the Crisis Team over the weekend. But honestly, what can they suggest that I’m not already trying? I’m doing the brew, benzo, bath thing. I’m meditating (twice so far today). I’m throwing all the coping methods I can think of at myself, I am so desperate I am willing to try anything, even things I might previously have scoffed at. For now I am curled up on the sofa with a blanket for comfort listening to music and just trying to find a way to exist that is at least tolerable. CPN suggested a walk – but I explained to her that having made it to the shop early this morning and got in supplies for the weekend, the thought of not having to leave the house again for a couple of days is one of the few things that is bringing me some relief. I’ve managed to curb the internet shopping too so I shouldn’t even have to deal with any knocks on the door. Is it wrong that I’m actually quite pleased that it’s raining today, so that I don’t have to feel like I *should* be outside enjoying the weather?
I’m not sure where this has come from, I’m not yet sure what it’s about, though I plan to try to explore it later. For now though I’ve gained a new found respect for anxiety and for those who live with it daily. I genuinely thought I didn’t experience it and hadn’t realised before quite what a beast it can be.