Anxieyote
Sobriety over everything else • 30 • Midwest
- Mar 24, 2021
- 445
I thought my visit to the psych ward was my "rock bottom" moment. After I was discharged, I remember thinking it could only get better from there.
I was wrong. The psych ward was just a prelude of things to come. It was my last cry for help. I knew something was wrong in my head that I wasn't going to be able to handle by myself.
I'm not getting the help I need, and I don't know where or how to get it. No therapist has been able to help. No medication has been able to help. Nothing is working.
I'm extremely grateful to the people on here who have been patient enough to speak with me during my psychotic episodes, but it's gotten really bad. I need professional help, but we all know how that goes. My last visit to the psych ward emptied my bank account; even with insurance.
It's not looking good. My only source of comfort is my imaginary wolf, but her visiting more frequently is not a good sign. I see it as my mind's last attempt to create the "perfect friend" who I never had the pleasure of meeting during my life.
The worst part is, I don't want to die. I can, and I have loved life before. There are so many things I want to do, and places I want to go. But it feels like a light has been extinguished inside of me. I can barely walk out my front door anymore without having a panic attack, so any hopes or dreams about going places and meeting new people is just a fantasy I made up in my head. I always thought about doing this, or doing that, but I just never did—and now I can't.
Before I CTB, I am hoping to muster up the courage to use what little money I have left to travel to some different places with my wolf friend. I hope it isn't a pipe dream.
I was wrong. The psych ward was just a prelude of things to come. It was my last cry for help. I knew something was wrong in my head that I wasn't going to be able to handle by myself.
I'm not getting the help I need, and I don't know where or how to get it. No therapist has been able to help. No medication has been able to help. Nothing is working.
I'm extremely grateful to the people on here who have been patient enough to speak with me during my psychotic episodes, but it's gotten really bad. I need professional help, but we all know how that goes. My last visit to the psych ward emptied my bank account; even with insurance.
It's not looking good. My only source of comfort is my imaginary wolf, but her visiting more frequently is not a good sign. I see it as my mind's last attempt to create the "perfect friend" who I never had the pleasure of meeting during my life.
The worst part is, I don't want to die. I can, and I have loved life before. There are so many things I want to do, and places I want to go. But it feels like a light has been extinguished inside of me. I can barely walk out my front door anymore without having a panic attack, so any hopes or dreams about going places and meeting new people is just a fantasy I made up in my head. I always thought about doing this, or doing that, but I just never did—and now I can't.
Before I CTB, I am hoping to muster up the courage to use what little money I have left to travel to some different places with my wolf friend. I hope it isn't a pipe dream.
