I Hate Rollercoasters

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(Photo Credit: It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia,  episode, The Gang Goes to The Jersey Shore) I know they weren’t actually on a roller-coaster during this scene but this exact moment reflects perfectly how I have been feeling. Ouch, I know!  Hello everyone, your sometimes functioning unicorn has returned!  The past few weeks, or months even, have been one hell of a roller-coaster and I’m in anticipation of when it will ever stop and I will be safe and calm again on the ground where I belong.  I’ve had a suicide scare, been constantly questioning whether or not I should commit myself to a hospital but afraid of how my parents will take it (I depend on them for important things and I do not want to break that trust), my anxiety-panic attacks-BPD episodes have decided to up the craziness and shake the cage of my already unstable emotions, been dealing with the horrifying ups and downs of my mom’s (best friend) recent diabetes diagnosis that is no longer comfortably calm, and I’ve been on new anti-psychotics that have been giving me crazy side effects when I NEED to be working now.

I know what you’re probably thinking after the first few words, “WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED”, at least that’s how my friends have been reacting, and my psychiatrist minus the curse word.  Let’s just say it was another west indie parent lecture gone too far that ended in me walking up the stairs with tears painted all over my face to my room like a zombie falling a part from each step.  So not to trigger anyone or relive that painful night I will not go into detail of what happened once I reached the comforting darkness of my room.  Long story short, my cousin threatening to call 911 and have me promise I will not do anything probably saved my life, and I just closed my eyes until I fell asleep.  It’s remarkable how therapeutic closing my eyes and falling into a slumber was.  If I was unconscious I couldn’t do anything at all.  Now, before I move on from this subject, I would like to take the time to address ANYONE who feels suicidal or hopeless at all in this very moment.  PLEASE go to the hospital or call 911 (or the emergency number of your country)immediately.  Reaching out to people that you know will help is also an option as I did or if going to the ER is not an option (it should be your FIRST choice regardless you matter and your health is very important) find a safe-place in a friend or family member that you can stay at for a little while as the irrationality clears from your mind.  And lastly, suicide hotlines exist for a reason and SHOULD be considered during times of crisis.  Here is a link to every suicide hotline in every country:

http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html

Okay, now that the very serious issues have been addressed, I will discuss less scary topics. Because I live in America, where you lose your parent’s health insurance once you turn 26, my parents have been putting the pressure on me as my summer birthday is looming eerily soon.  Yes, this is a bit of a first world problem rant and things could be worse, but I’m just discussing what’s happening to me at the current moment and how this is correlated to my anxiety and mental illnesses.  From the instance I was birthed into this world the idea of having ANY job, let alone full-time, felt about as possible as a flying ostrich.  Sure, I have overcome a great deal of accomplishments I never thought I would make it through, college on campus and commuting from home, getting my driver’s licence and driving to and from school, studying abroad in another country, and the list goes on.  Unfortunately, my anxiety and depression has been with me throughout all of these other worldly accomplishments.  Eventually, I was put on a cocktail of psychiatric drugs, and now having health insurance means more than everything to me now.  Not to mention the list of my cocktail keeps being shaken repetitively like a nest of hornets buzzing aggressively with unstable emotions.

I am so very close to walking inside the nearest hospital and committing myself so I can have a break for myself and get my current emotions and panic attacks sorted out like when I did outpatient therapy.  I have been thinking about those times lately and regret the at sometimes uncomfortable but ultimately comfortable feeling of being in group therapy, having my own therapist, being able to get my vitals just like that, having my own psychiatrist who actually knew what they were doing, a group of friends that never judged me because it was like talking to myself in a mirror, and the therapeutic activities they had for us.  I suppose this is the true definition of you don’t know what you had until it is gone.  My biggest fear with committing myself is wasting my parents’ money and wasting the time I have until my birthday when I should be looking for a full-time job I may never be able to weather without a few panic attacks or two.  Being a substitute teacher with a “part-time” job has been stressful enough on my anxiety and depression.

I am certain this is a huge problem for many people, no matter the age, and I want to let every single one of you that you are NOT alone and we can all get through this together, I promise.  To quote Les Miserables, “even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise!”

Love your caring Unicorn xoxo,

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