Having my disorder is extremely difficult to live the life i want to live. Its like being in an escape room with no escape from your own mind and body. It's tormenting, it's aggravating, it's lonely. I cant exactly pinpoint how long I've had the disorder, but iv'e been struggling with it on and off my entire life. Now, at almost 28 years old, it's become even more difficult to deal with. I've been fighting for the last year with myself, going back and forth on "am i going crazy"? The battle is 10x's more exhausting because my support system doesn't know how to support me, and they unintentionally make it worse. I fear even bringing up the fact that i need help or treatment for a few reasons. One being i don't want to be judged as "losing it" or "crazy", as I've heard before from others cases. I also don't want to take medication in fear of being judged on why i'm taking it, also fears of adverse reactions to the medication. I don't want to be viewed as my disorder because i feel like deep down somewhere i can overcome it. Social anxiety has effected my everyday life from work, to finances, raising my daughter, having a healthy relationship with my boyfriend, having a stable life, interacting with family and friends. It's difficult to watch my life fall apart because of my actions and even my words. It's hard for me to trust anyone because people lie and are selfish. People say they want to help to turn around and put you on the street.
I read an article about some 18,000 people committed suicide since actor Robin Williams took his like three years ago. Still, people down play the seriousness of mental health. Just two years ago I senselessly took sedatives with alcohol, knowing the effects but going forth with it. At those times it was me giving up, but it was also a cry for help that i need help. I've shared this with relatives, their response was nothing. I was surprised at how unconcerned their reactions were that i could have taken my life. It was nonchalant to say the least. I stopped that madness of mixing thanks to my boyfriend. The black community suffers from mental health disorders more common than not, and i feel that the black family definitely turns a blind eye. As my mother would put it, I need to "get over it". I wish i could. I wish there was an escape other than weed and liquor from my mind. How i explained it to someone a time before, its like running in a race and continuously passing the piton to yourself. I'm up all night from insomnia, my appetite is almost nonexistent, I've been out of work because of my disorder, i have all these plans of things i want and need to do that usually don't happen. I make promises to my daughter or people to go out, and then close to the time, i sabotage it so i don't have to go in public places due to my lack of trust. I always feel bad afterwards because i don't like when people feel like they cant rely on me. It's constant competition with myself to prove that i can display and be what i don't see in others. I don't want to be a victim to this any longer, at the same time i don't know where to seek help. I reached out for help passively and aggressively within the last year and i find myself with the same results. I want help, I'm trying to seek it myself because, with a year of complaints to people i trusted and thought could help me, they didn't. This heightens my social anxiety and my depression. I feel like the only way i'll find true peace of mind is when i leave this world. For my time here, i have to figure out how to be a prisoner in my own body. I am not crazy, and i'm not losing it. I'm just fighting to be "normal" and live a "normal life".