Experience through my eyes

Lunch was delicious. I had a healthy sandwich and some chocolate. I get home and start to set up my computer, but all motivation suddenly leaves me. I start to feel anxious. A panic attack is coming and I know it. That’s okay. I’ve learned how to control these feelings, the indistinguishable thoughts.

One thought sneaks through. I feel lonely. I don’t think I have anyone. I text a friend saying I need someone to talk to so I remain calm. No answer. I call my boyfriend, but I feel ashamed and needy so I downplay my feelings. He invites me out with his roommates, but I turn it down because I don’t want to be around people. It’s true, I don’t want to be around people. But I need people right now. No one cares about me, why should I become a burden?

I start sobbing uncontrollably. I can’t breathe. I cry out. The room starts spinning. I run to the bathroom with dry heaves. I try calling more people. I can’t handle this alone. “Is it urgent?” “I have too much work to do.” “Can you wait 15 minutes?” No one will come. I finally get a hold of my roommate who comes home just before I pass out. All feeling in my hands is gone. My arms are tingling and I feel out of control. I start reaching for the walls trying to break out of this pain.

My roommate holds me and rubs my hands to make sure I stay with her. She breathes with me. Deep breaths. It takes about 5 minutes for me to stop hyperventilating. The world starts calming down. I can see clearly again. My mind is quiet. My feeling returns. I apologize over and over to my roommate, who shushes me and says I should’ve called her sooner.

As I get ready to go lie down and calm down all the way, I receive a phone call from the job I was nearly guaranteed during the interview. I didn’t get the job. One more thing to knock me down when I already feel worthless. But my roommate forced me to watch Grease Live! and I felt at ease. I laughed at the cheesiness. I sang along with the familiar songs. I didn’t focus on the paper that was due the next day. I just focused on myself and understanding that the world had not ended.

———

This all occurred after a week of severe depression. I wouldn’t leave bed. I couldn’t leave bed. I didn’t want to sleep all day, but I felt like that’s all my body would let me do. To experience both in a week, these two extremes, is very exhausting on the body and the mind.

In hindsight, it seems I reached out to people I knew wouldn’t drop everything to come help me. I did expect a couple of them to, but I downplayed how much help I really needed. My boyfriend couldn’t drive over and I was incoherent on the phone. I don’t blame him. I just know that next time I shouldn’t wait until it is too late to ask for help. To clarify that I’m not worthless when I start feeling that way.

I hadn’t had a panic attack in a year and one month. I’ve been wanting to get off my antidepressants, and I still do. But I was hoping to justify it to my doctor with my lack of world-ending feelings. He doesn’t want me to stop taking them because I might relapse. But these pills make me sick. I have withdrawals if I miss two days. I have withdrawal symptoms even when I take them regularly. I feel worse than before I ever took them. I only agreed to start them because I tried everything else. They said I could be off them in a year or two. It’s been three. This is why I was hesitant. I feel like doctors just don’t want to deal with the difficulties that come with helping me wean off the medicine. But it’s my choice and I’ve decided I want to see what I’m like without them. If I relapse, then I will proceed accordingly.