NEXUS
HINENGARO
WHELMED
It’s hard to write about mental health when your own mental health is struggling a bit. I’m okay, coming out of a rough patch, but it still takes a while to get the brain going. You also get paranoid about how much to share or how much to say. Will it be TMI if I say this? Will people judge me if I say that? I’ve had a lot of stress lately, and that coupled with struggling to get a prescription filled, meant that my brain went into overdrive again. I froze. I shut down. The fate of the universe suddenly rested on this small decision. My world was ending. My brain started screaming at me due to my dependence on this prescribed drug that I no longer had for a short period of time, a drug that is helping me. I lay on the couch while my brain was spinning. I had a couple of drunken social events, which were fun but when the night ends and you’re lying on the couch trying to sleep things get really lonely. You start thinking maybe you’d incorporate that into your next column. But you resist. Luckily, I have a lot of amazing people in my life who encourage and support me. These people are amazed I do the things I do and yet seem to have it all together. But I don’t always. I’m trying to figure things out and do whatever I can to get those flashbulbs of happiness in amongst, what at times, seems like a daily struggle. Those connections that matter, those calming voices in the dark when the faces come out at you. During this rough period where I didn’t have the meds, I had a couple of panic attacks. The walls close in, you think your heart is going to rupture, and you sit on the floor. On one occasion I was lucky it happened in bed, so that my emotional support cat could put her head on my arm. The sensation interrupted the panic. Presley is good like that. Sadly, the other time was in the bathroom and she wasn’t there. I just had to wait for it to pass so I could get up, exhausted, and carry on. The first rule for me is to get back up. Like a damn Chumbawamba song. And then you feel guilty. Why did I just panic? Nothing triggered it, just all of a sudden, the walls closed in. No triggers, no thoughts, no flow chart of events. Just terror and physical symptoms. You wonder what the hell is going to happen – short term or long term. Am I going to have a heart attack, or will I one day achieve whatever long-term goals I have? Shit, I don’t have any. People with a 5 year plan are successful aren’t they? This whole column is my brain . There’s no such thing as TMI if you’re struggling.
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