I've been having horrible night-time anxiety and panic attacks. It started in January, and has gotten progressively worse -- so bad that I'm afraid to go to sleep at night. I never know when I'm going to wake up in a panic. It always feels like I'm dying. It's a horrible feeling. So I've been taking klonopin, which knocks me out for the night. But then I feel all drowsy the next day. So either way, I'm always so tired these days. It's really draining the life out of me. So I finally went to the doctor the other day, and he put me on Paxil. It takes three weeks to really start working. The only thing I've noticed so far is that my sex drive has completely diminished. Great.
I really, really hate being on medication again. Of course, no one's making me take it. I'm doing it of my own accord, because I'm desperate, and because it will help me get my feet back on the ground -- and I'm only taking until then! I've been spouting Eastern philosophies to back my disapproval, but... well, ultimately it's my pride that makes me hate it the most...
I've been all proud of myself because, after years of being medicated, I was finally drug free and doing great... I thought. I thought I was doing better than this. Yeah, I recently went through a break-up, lots of changes, hard times, whatever, but it wasn't that bad... I thought I was stronger...
Now I've fallen again. I'm back to square one. And I'm afraid of what that makes me. I'm afraid of what people think.
For nearly my whole life I've been living like I've got something to prove. All those people that look down on me, that despise me, that laugh at me... gotta show them that I'm not a fuck-up, that I am a beautiful, intelligent, and successful human being -- far better of a person than they will ever be. But the truth is, most of these people aren't looking anymore, they aren't laughing anymore, they don't care anymore. And those who still do? They don't want to see my worth, and they won't until they're ready to forgive and let go.
I am one of those people.
All this time I've been worried about what others think, and here I've been, every single day, ridiculing, criticizing, hating myself. Unable to forgive myself and let go.
I've been trying to prove to everyone else that I'm great? Yeah right. I need to prove it to myself first.
But as I sit here about to take two different pills -- one to get me through the night, and one to get me through the next few months of my life -- I'm finding it hard to believe that I'm anything amazing.... Not that I don't think I am! But... my pride. I'm a stress-case and a pill-popper, and for myself I associate those two things with being a fuck-up. You can see where the struggle is.
Deep down, I know that I am an incredibly special and worthwhile person. But I have to understand that that does not make me perfect, or better than anyone else. I am not a fuck-up, but I do fuck up, and that's okay. Life is inherently difficult, and I don't always know how to cope. Sometimes I let things get a little out of hand. But I am conscious and trying; I am learning from my mistakes and doing what I can to be a happy, healthy, and enlightened human being. That is all that matters. I have nothing to prove to anyone. And I have nothing to hide. So... here is my first public entry in a really long time.