The Face of Fear

My chest tightens, the tears fill my eyes and within a few seconds I feel fear, of what I don’t know.

My heart physically starts to hurt and my breathing quickens…am I having a heart attack at the young age of 32?

I don’t want to go out, yet get upset when I know my friends are out together doing something I am not invited to.

I actively make up excuses for being overweight yet I complain when people say anything about it or suggest I should do as they say, they don’t know me – they don’t know what it’s like.

At times I bite the heads off people I love because the heat in my chest is bursting to get out, they have been the ones to make me cross a very thin, invisible line that I walk everyday.

Whats wrong with me you ask – nothing.  Like thousands of other men and women I suffer from anxiety and have been on a medication called Ciprolex for the past three years.  For some reason, none that I can pinpoint, my anxiety has gotten worse over the past month.

I have spent the past three years trying to get my head on straight, make changes, adjust my friendships, forgive people who desperately sought me out and do what everyone wanted me to do – work, date, go out and do whatever it took to be “normal”.  But inside, deep inside my heart, I want to curl into a ball and do none of the above.

Suicide is an option for many people with anxiety-others may just have a physical reaction by either vomiting or having excessive bowel problems, I am fortunate that my anxiety doesn’t manifest itself in any of these ways.  I’m not going to sit here and pretend I haven’t thought how easy it would be to end it all or tell you I’ve never had stomach cramps that beg for me to throw up, but I always manage.  I always get myself under control.

Anxiety and depression aren’t things we talk about with strangers and sometimes not even with those who love us most.  A girl who I have known my entire life I recently re-connected with through her blog www.worthcourting.wordpress.com and like me, she is single, in her 30’s and suffers from anxiety.  Now, Court is a much stronger writer then I will ever be, but our stories are similar.  She is brave.  She is beautiful.  She has made this taboo subject not so taboo. I am grateful that I have read all that she has to write on this topic and praise her for being so candid while so many of us suffer in silence.

Because of fear I have been having lately, I felt a need, a need to write it down.  I ask those of who know me personally to not ask if I am okay.  Don’t ask what you can do.  Don’t tell me I will be okay.  I don’t have any response to those questions or concerns and it just makes me more frustrated when people talk to me about it. I get it – its frustrating to you to see me hurt, to see me cry, to not be able to help, but guess what:

I can’t care right now

I see a doctor, she knows my issues and I am bothered by the fact that due to something completed unrelated I no longer want to be under her care, but I will continue seeing her until I can find someone knew, because regardless of how unstable I feel – I am responsible enough to know having a doctors guidance and support is of more importance right now than our disagreement.

The amount of people I know who have or have suffered from anxiety and/or depression astounds me.  I have friends who have attempted suicide, who have been heavily medicated because of this horrible disease.  It is not a disease that strikes only white, middle class women, though we are the ones who usually come out and talk about it.   This horrible illness effects people – regardless of race, socio-economic status and gender.  It beats you up, it can and does kill you.  It eats you alive from the inside until the only thing that seems normal is not feeling normal.

I write this because I have approximately 44 followers and numerous others who read my blog for whatever reason.  I am asking everyone to realize that you most likely know someone who is suffering right now.  Someone you know is hurting and doesn’t have the resources and support that I do.  Please make yourselves available.  Talk, but please listen.  Pay attention to those you love, check-in and if you are the one suffering, please get help, tell a trusted doctor.  You do not have to be alone.

XOXO Nikilee

 

 

 

 

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Irrational Fears

According to the freedictionary.com a phobia can be described as this

1. A persistent, abnormal, and irrational fear of a specific thing or situation that compels one to avoid it, despite the awareness and reassurance that it is not dangerous.
 
Yesterday when I was driving around with A from work, I realised my car needs washing ASAP.  I mean it’s so dirty that you can’t even tell the beautiful shiny blue that lies underneath a thick film of road salt, dirt and sand.  It’s bad.  My poor car.  I told A I couldn’t wash it until I was in my own neighbourhood and when she asked why (we have a perfectly good car wash around the corner from our work) I had to admit to her my irrational fear: car washes.
 
I have no fear of being in a car wash.  If I am a passenger I find it exciting even.  However, as a driver, my anxiety hits new highs, my knuckles turn white and until that door opens to let me out I panic.  When I was dating GBF this was not an issue because he would take my car for me to get cleaned. He fed my fears out of love.   However when we broke up, and I was alone, I had to do it on my own.  Thankfully he took me a few time to the car wash closest to our house and had me go through a few times in order for me to understand exactly how and when everything works.
 
So now, I can use the Esso gas station a car wash!  However, the idea of using ANY other car wash causes the blood to drain from my face.  A has said she will go with me.  I’m not sure if that will work.  I know people are reading this shaking their head thinking how stupid this Nikilee character is.  But trust me, this is my real life, this is me.
 
For better or for worse
 
XOXO Nikilee