Random Thoughts

In the midst of another crossfire in my head again. Both sides are putting up quite a fight, although to be honest, if there was one method of suicide that didn't suck in some way or another, the side pushing for suicide would probably be winning.

I still haven't made any effort to contact any psychiatrist. I know I need to and yet I just cannot bring myself to do it. For one, I am terrified to step back in the psychiatric world. Two, I am worried about how much it is going to cost and how the doctor will be. But I really can't take it anymore. I am so tired and fed up with feeling like shit, both physically and emotionally. I am tired of laying on my bed all day because I am so emotionally paralyzed from all of the anxiety. I am tired of inspecting my skin and taking my blood pressure, even though I cut the latter down to two times a day. I am tired of being unable to concentrate and having people talking to me and I can't even pay attention. I am tired of feeling so fucking stupid because my mind is so wrapped around having Addison's disease that I am literally unable to comprehend anything.

I wish I could go back to October 3rd and find out what exactly came into my head that morning that brought on this whole Addison's disease fear. All I know is I woke up for work and something brought into my head. Like I said before, I had read about it long before that morning, like maybe the beginning of September, when I happened to google what could cause someone to crave salt. I read a brief description of it and just brushed it off. And what brought it into my head weeks later, I really do not know. And in that split second, just that one small thought popping into my head has turned into an almost 4 month emotional nightmare. And if something is not done soon to settle this, I am afraid I am actually going to lose my mind from it.

And now that I think about it, my fear of MS 6 years ago followed almost a similar pattern. I wish I could remember how long it took for me to finally get over that fear and accept I was okay, although when that finally happened, I got angry that I was okay.

And aside from that big giant problem, there is a moutain of other problems I need to fix. Like being so fucking socially retarded. Having no self-esteem. Getting to the bottom of why I can't ever live up to my own expectations. That last one is starting to turn into a big problem. I have been over this, sure, millions of times, but I can't ever please myself for anything.

Nothing I do is ever good enough. I said before that I hate that I haven't finished school yet, but even if I did, I would beat myself up for taking so long. But now I also would beat myself up for not getting a degree from a better school. For not ever applying myself more when I was first going to college. I was definitely not dumb in high school, but I planned on going to community college anyway. I never bothered to take the SATs, because I am a firm believer that standerized testing is nothing but a bunch of lies. And almost 10 years later, the regret of not ever trying to get into a good school is hitting. And at my age, I should know better that a degree from a big name school doesn't guarantee anything nowadays. Hell, my sister got her degree from community college (but has a Bachelors now) and is making more money than most people.

But it still bugs me. And it doesn't help that I have the bad habit of comparing my own accomplishments to other people's, particularly idols. Then I really beat up on myself.

And look what happened. I haven't taken classes in almost 7 years, because my expectations have broken me down to the point that I am not even trying to meet them halfway. I don't understand why I am so hard on myself. It's not going to change much. I am still going to loathe myself, maybe a fraction less, but oh it will still be there.

I was reading comments in regards to a soap opera actor committing suicide and someone mentioned how with depression, the most bizarre things can feel like an attack on a depressed person. And it's true. There are days where the stupidest little thing can set off suicidal ideation. On Sunday, I was getting ready to go to Atlantic City and my blow dryer decided to go, so I was already annoyed by the time I got into my car. And then as I am driving, my check engine light comes on. I almost lost it. I pulled into a parking lot and just burst into tears. And it seems like since then, it's been one thing after the other. A headlight blew. I think I may have accidentally threw out my new registration card when I renewed it in the spring. I am ready to scream.

Back when I went to NYC at Christmas time, I said about how I was not looking forward to it. I was miserable as anything during the holidays (just pointing that out in case you hadn't notice; not that I am any better now, but that's not the point). I felt so shitty between losing my job and my anxiety being so bad and was so not looking forward to going that I actually started to pray that something really nice would happen while I was there. And if that something happened, it would give me some kind of hope to keep on going. Unfortunately, said thing never happened. To say I was very disappointed would be an understatement. Although I guess it's kind of a good thing it didn't happen, because I am sure I would have made a fool of myself and cried if it had. But the joy it would have brought me would have been like nothing I have felt before.

I wish I could come up with some kind of plan where I have to punish myself for every day I do not call the doctor. Don't know what I could use for punishment, though.