You know that irrational stream of thoughts that scream at you all the time? I call that my “crazy”. I know, I know. Therapists everywhere are nodding solemnly with a quizzical look saying “But, what is ‘crazy’?” I know it’s a word that we aren’t encouraged to use. But that’s what it is to me, so that’s what I’m calling it. Anyway, the crazy woke me from a solid sleep last night at 2:00am. It was telling me how I was a horrible person for eating bread last night. It was telling me that I wasn’t safe because in my mind nothing between the hours of midnight and 4:00 am is safe. Panic gripped my chest, my heart pounded so hard I felt like an Edgar Allen Poe character. My legs trembled so hard the bed shook with the force. Sweat bathed my face and neck as it felt like I had been shoved into hot lava, drowning in the heat and struggling to just breathe. My lungs wouldn’t listen and let the air in. My stomach rolled and knitted and nausea sat heavy in the back of my throat. I wanted to run. Far from the thoughts telling me that something horrible was happening. Far from the physical sensations that happen at least 6 times a day yet feel like the first time every time. And so I laid there and prayed. It’s not much of a prayer in times like that. All I can manage is one word: Please. Begging God to please please make it stop. After two hours I drifted back to sleep, my sheets a tangled mess. At 6:00, I woke up again. My dog barking to be let out. I close my eyes and do my checks in my head. How do I feel? How are my body systems? Is everything ok? The dog keeps barking. I have to get up. She needs to go out. I can’t make her wait for my stupid checks. I look at the clock. Relieved. 6:00 am is a safe hour. I curse myself again for eating bread yesterday. I know I’m not supposed to eat carbs. I know I’m not supposed to eat butter. I hate myself with a white hot hate for failing to stick on my diet. I get up and walk to the living room. My dog jumps in my lap and licks my face and I bury my face in her warm fur. I know we have to go outside. The panic swells at the thought of leaving my apartment. I will have to walk two long hallways and go down 14 floors to take her out. It’s far away from the safety of my home. It feels like going out there is living in a space like limbo. It’s not safe. It’s not dangerous. Just something in between. I put on her leash. I grab all the things I need to stay safe as I leave my apt. A special purse with hand sanitizer, gloves, paper towels, water, and dog treats. I can’t go anywhere without this. I pin the safety pin on the bottom of my shirt because that keeps me safe too. I certainly can’t go anywhere without a safety pin after all. I pick up my dog and carry her because it feels like someone is hugging me when I do that and because she likes it too. We walk to the front door. I have to put her down and check my purse again. Is everything in there? Do I have my water? Do I have my gloves? Hand sanitizer? Paper towels? My fingers fly to the hem of my shirt. Is my safety pin still there? Thank God. It is. Out we go. I shake and gasp and kind of run the whole way down while trying my best to not look crazy to the neighbors. I think about how I need to take a shower and go to the grocery store today. There’s no more food left here. I dread having to leave my apartment. Having to get in the car. Having to drive. Having to touch a buggy in the store. Spending hours while my OCD tells me what foods are safe and what are unsafe. I know I will pack and unpack that buggy 50 times. We come upstairs. I put dog food in her bowl. Give her fresh water. Pray for the strength to take a shower and go to the grocery store. To just find the mental strength to pull myself out of the quicksand that makes me want to hide in bed all day. I run back to my bed. My heart is pounding. The nausea returns. My head spins. I type this post with shaky hands from underneath the covers. Pray for me that I make it to the grocery store today.
When the crazy gets too loud... - Anxiety and Depre...
When the crazy gets too loud...
It's hard to understand what someone such as yourself has to to survive everyday with so much to get through 24hours. Your a beautiful writer....eligant and very clear....I know it's difficult for you..as is probably every decission you have to make....but as much as my heart goes out to you....I hope you realize what a wonderful gift you have. I am sorry you have suffered and still do so much with every task....but when you can...I look forward to your next share...hang in there StarryNight....your in a good place here....
Thank you, fauxartist, for your kind words and support. It helps to feel not so alone. And you have given me that beautiful gift this morning.
Hi StarryNight
I will pray for you today. You can do this. You can get to the grocery store today. I hope that you have a good day.
I don't usually sleep well and at times I'm up anywhere between 1 and 5 am sometimes with my thoughts running wild. I tend to overthink and over analyze alot of things. Sometimes the nightmares keep me up as well.
Prayers and hugs
Hi Michael,
Thank you so much for your reply. What do you do during those hours when you’re up with racing thoughts? Have you found anything to help?
Hi StarryNight
I try to listen to music if that doesn't help ill try and YouTube comedians and hope for some laughs to distract me. If that doesn't work I'll play some beach sounds and try and meditate or do some deep breathing. (I love the beach It relaxes me when I can get there) my therapist reached me a tapping excersize and someone here shared a YouTube page with a guy who does tapping with all different subjects. So I've been doing some of those. I do find it helps me a bit. And writing here and sharing has helped me alot. I've bottled my emotions for a long long time and now I'm slowly letting it out. It feels good and for the first time I don't feel alone with what I'm going through.
I hope your having a good day so far!
Ps. Your writing is amazing. The way you described everything. I really felt like I was living what you were going through. Like when you read a good book and your there.
Gosh, thank you Michael, both for the compliment and for the YouTube suggestions. I haven’t tried tapping. But I’m thinking maybe I should. Can’t hurt, right?
You are very brave to put it all out there like you did. You are a fabulous writer- you could probably make money at it.
Are you taking any meds? I feel so bad that you are struggling so much. I have bipolar 2 and anxiety disorder- along with mild copd. I absolutely HATE to drive; I can’t drive on boulevard roads , over bridges or on freeways( it’s about feeling trapped) so I feel ya there.
I’ll pray for you too and wish you all the best. You a stronger than you think.
Thank you for responding to me, Meow. It means a lot that you would take the time to write. And thank you for the wonderful and sweet compliment. I have always been religious about taking my meds but ran out about a month ago. Because I just started a new job, I won’t have insurance to see a psychiatrist and start meds again until August. This is the first time in 18 years I’ve been unmedicated and it’s so hard. Both the withdrawals from the meds and the living with the disorders unmedicated. I truly just try to take life one minute at a time. It helps tremendously though to be here in such a supportive environment. I wish you nothing but happiness and peace today.
I have those voices to - the ones that tell me I am bad, stupid, worthless. Today they are screaming at me. I need to do something to make them stop.
Hi Olinick,
Maybe our “voices” could speak to each other instead of to us? 😀. In all seriousness though, I feel your pain. Mine still haven’t let up today. I try really hard to distract myself and it helps about 10% of the time. I try to take a nap just to not be afraid for 30 minutes. I do my best to accept that this is how today is going to be and tell myself tomorrow will be better. Just gotta get through today. If things get too bad, I will sometimes force myself to walk downstairs to the lobby of my building. I know all of the security guards down there and they are always eager to chat. Sometimes talking to a real person instead of listening to my thoughts makes them quiet down a little. Other times I just draw swirls of different colors on a piece of paper. For some reason that’s soothing to me. And sometimes, ok a lot of times, I just turn on the radio super loud and have a dance party for one in my living room. It’s like the physical movement and loud music drown it out. But, please remember, I’m here and I’m real. I’m fighting the same battle you are. I know how hard and how relentless it is. Imagine. Somewhere in the United States, in the middle of a great big city, is a girl. A girl who tries not to take herself too seriously. Who refuses to let this crap win. Who will fight with you. Remember. If you need me, I am here.
Thank you so much for that reply. Today I really needed it. After reading it I wanted to cry. Since I responded to your post a friend of mine called and we are going to go out to do some errands together. I had thought of calling her but then another panic attack hit (they have been relentless today) and the thought of being with someone was too much. Now I am feeling better and your response has helped more. I may need to contact you again some more this weekend. This is going to be a long weekend. My voices are really screaming right now. I think I need to come up with a name for my voices too.
I’m here. Any time. Day or night. Feel free to PM me. You don’t have to face the panic alone. I’m here.
Hello StarryNight72,
I'm sorry for what you are going through. I have OCD, as well. I understand the insistent thoughts, I understand the rituals.
You're clearly a very gifted writer. Your post was almost novelistic in detail; I wonder if just the act of writing it gave you any comfort, or a degree of objectivity toward your struggles with "the crazy?" Do you enjoy writing in general?
Hmmm, well, to be honest mrmonk, I’m the kind of person that if you ask me what time it is, I’ll tell you how to build a clock. :). I thank you kindly for the compliment. I have always written. I must have 500 journals. For me, it’s a purge to write but also how I best express myself. I find that suffering with anxiety, depression, and OCD; we are all so desperate to be understood. To try to explain to others exactly what this is like. But that is extremely difficult, no? How do you put misery into words? How do you explain terror and torture and hope and determination? Our vocabulary falls flat of the experience. So, I like to explain my experience by having you just live it with me for a moment.
It is difficult to get across the felt experience of mental illness to others, especially in prose. But I've found that poetry can give voice to the inexplicable, even if only in its music.
Wow. This is heartbreaking to read. I wish I had something more helpful to say.
Honestly I go through this the thoughts the jumpy heart sweaty palms sweety feet. But my comfort person is my youngest it's not my boyfriend anymore I annoy him he hates me because I hate my disease so much I let it run our relationship
My heart goes out to you as I know how debilitating this disease can be. My prayers are with you. You are not alone and each of here at this forum care about you. It is so good you are reaching out and sharing. When I have struggled with my thoughts I refer back to a book that has really helped me called Battle Field of the Mind. It has taught me we can take control if our thoughts but it does take work. bit.ly/2IQhptu. With the right therapy, medicine and coping techniques you will feel better and not struggle so often. You will be in my thoughts and prayers. Please continue to let us know how you are doing and remember you are not going through this alone. Love and Hugs
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