I have anxiety, and IBS makes it much worse. I don't go out much in case a flare-up begins or in case I get a really bad panic attack. So there's not much I can do with my family and not much I can do for them.
My boyfriend is ill with a virus, and I dearly wanted to go and see him and take care of him. So I decided, that even though I can hardly get to the corner shop, I would walk to the station, get on a train, ride it for twenty minutes, get off and walk to his and stay the night. I wanted to be there for him. But I got as far as preparing my backpack and putting it on. And I knew I wouldn't make it there. So I threw it off and cried and howled into my pillow about how useless I am. Then I ran outside into the woods in the dark in an attempt to just get away from myself. I cried for a while and half hoped someone would attack me, I felt disgusting and wanted punishment. But I got really scared in the end and managed to get home safely.
I'm so tired of being the one that needs help. I'm going round in circles, building myself back up and getting torn down by the next flare-up. New symptoms, more tests, more clear results. I hate this time of my life. I feel like everyone will leave before I can get better. In fact I feel like I don't deserve anyone, I'm utterly useless. It's taken everything I have not to go back to my self harm habit. I feel like I want to scar myself all over to scare people away.