I had two months to make an application, I spent all of summer in my room on my bed, with the occasional psych-appointment (on the rare chance I didn’t cancel). So because it’s quite urgent that I submit this, my mind is shutting down, feeling sleepy despite sleeping all day, locked in my room, it’s quite warm but I feel terribly cold. I can’t ask what do I do, because I know what I need to do: just do the application! But for some reason, my mind does not want to. Like I have this IDGAF attitude when a lot is at stake if I don’t submit this application.
I’ve got no one to talk to because I don’t want to and I don’t have the energy to lie or smile. I even feel like a fraud claiming that I’m feeling apathetic because I hate this state. And hate is an emotion. I hate that I have all these memories of the person I used to be, before all this. I was punctual, less feeling, organised and my motivation run deep. Now I’m not even a shell of who I was, I don’t even aim to be like I was. I’m just aaaaaarregh.
Edit:
So after yoyoing between pitying myself and being disappointed, I took a walk, then got on the tram. Was a lot less anxious when I returned, I just did the application. The walk honestly was motivated by you guys. I feel so hypocritical that I tell this to my closest friend and my sister when this mood hits, but I can’t tell it to myself. Also, I’m still cold, but I’m okay with it because the anxiety of the application is gone now that I have submitted it (I don’t expect much from it, pessimist here, but I’m relieved it’s over and done with). Thank you. I even rescheduled my appointment, and took doses as prescribed (I’ve been intentionally missing my doses as I don’t feel any better).
I did something. I did leave the house, went for a walk. While it seemed to do the trick today, I worry that I don’t apply or have mechanisms to cope with. I don’t want that every time when I’m feeling like this, I have to vent about it to kind sober strangers online. What if I don’t have wifi, or I smash my phone in a fit? Then what next for me?
Reporting back: now it’s bath time, I think it’ll calm me.
You know what really scared me when I was in those shoes? The realisation that I didn't really "want" to get better. The miserable state I was in had gotten "comfortable" for me. Change is scary, es when changing from a bad place towards improvement.
Worrying isn't getting you anywhere either, so here's a destructive thought: what if you do cope? What if you do make changes for the better?