Sometimes Stuff Happens
I woke up one morning and didn’t care anymore. Didn’t feel anything when I thought about my future. Didn’t feel anything when I looked at people i knew I loved. It felt like the resonance I had felt in my chest when I looked at someone I loved was gone. It was like all feelings had disappeared. Except for fear. I got so scared that I panicked, and pressed myself against a wall and knew that I couldn’t survive this. There was no way I could feel like this and live through it. I was so scared.
This had happened before, but this time there was someone with me who knew that help could be gotten. And we did. I never pictured myself going to the psyciartic emergency room, but there I was. It was everything I expected it to be. Ugly. Run down. Sad. But then it wasn’t. Because there were people there who cared and knew how to help. They were concerned and I got medicine. I got sedatives and my self image changed. Now I was the kind of person who needed sedatives. And they were awesome. And I got antidepressants and it made it worse. It got so bad that there were times when I literally couldn’t stand on my own. At times I forgot to breathe. Apparently that’s how the medicine works. It makes it worse to be able to make it better.
And it got better, but man it was slow. So slow that I didn’t notice it. I had to force myself to wake up early and go running in the mornings and I’m so glad I did, I think it helped a lot. I figured out that the most difficult I could do was to be bored and be okay with it, when my mind wasn’t occupied it wandered away and always ended up in the worst “what if” it could find. Scumbag brain. So I played Minecraft and watched Lord of the Rings’ extra material.
And one day I woke up and it was fine. Only it wasn’t one day suddenly, it snuck in under the radar. I could feel love, I could feel happiness and I could think about the future without panic.
I hate you panic, but you helped me learn a lot about my brain and how it works. How it can’t always be trusted. That it sometimes makes stuff up just so that it can release some of the fear. I know that five people with the same length of shorts in a group aren’t dangerous, but when my brain was sick it couldn’t find any lions in its vicinity so it took the next best thing. People in shorts. Or christmas lights in the summer.
And even though it was aweful and I didn’t think I could survive, I did. I realized I am stronger than I realize and that medication really can help. They don’t change you, they don’t make you happy, but they do help you not panicking and getting up in the morning. In the long run it was probably a period that helped me grow. I learned that sometimes, when something seems absolutely impossible, it is the brain that fools me into hopelessness. I learned not to trust myself at times when I didn’t make any sense. And I learned that I could take help and that sadness, depression and panic doesn’t describe who I am. I got sick and I got better. It is a disease and it can be treated, even though the future hopefully will bring medicine with less side effects. I am not defined by my sadness and I can be content.
Thank you Erik, for all the help. I love you