My anxiety and depression make me think “no one wants to hear this” and “no one cares.” My anxiety tells me I have to word this perfectly and succinctly (don’t want to exhaust people with too many words). My depression tells me that it doesn’t matter anyway, I should just go to bed. But I’m doing my best to reach out for support.
I feel like every issue could be a paragraph and more. And who has time for that. In short:
I’m unemployed and my unemployment is running out.
I had to run from a paranoid schizophrenic stalker who threatened me. I’ve been through three towns, four houses and two jobs in the last year.
I am living on so little money after having been pretty successful in my career. Full of shame as I watch my friends with families, kids, houses and good jobs seem so content. Stupidly, what little money I do have I spend on cigars and alcohol. Because they seem the only escape mechanisms.
I have no health insurance.
Every day I wake up thinking I’ll accomplish something and every day I seem to fail. I’ve been trapped in Groundhog’s Day for months.
I get no joy from all the things I used to like cooking, making art, setting goals, working out, writing, music....
I’m steadily getting fatter because I can’t motivate to do anything despite the fact I can barely eat.
I have nightmares every night.
I count a day I only cry once a good day.
I think of suicide every single day but I’m committed to overpower the thoughts. Still they exhaust me.
I’m afraid I’ll be the girl with a master’s degree who becomes homeless because she can’t pay her rent.
This list goes on. I’ve found myself in a horrible situation and then I have anxiety and depression and suicidal thoughts piled on top of it. I’m so exhausted