Things Aren’t Rosy Here, in Fact, They are Desperate

The stress of living with dissociative identity disorder is tearing me apart.

 

Let me start from the beginning. I have problems with seasonal affective disorder (SAD) that causes me to experience extremes of depression, anxiety, and a deep sense of dread. I’ve had this problem all my life and have tried very hard to overcome it.

 

The seasonal affective disorder I have doesn’t only happen in the fall, but also in the spring. That means I suffer half the year. Sigh.

 

While many people have SAD, folks living with the diagnosis of DID seem to suffer the most and the worst.

 

The fall of 2018 and this spring 2019 have been the worst bouts of SAD I have ever experienced. I don’t know if it is because I’m getting older or what. All I know is I’m beyond miserable and getting more desperate every day.

 

SAD doesn’t just involve feeling blue, it involves emotions that are hard to describe but I’ll try.

 

Overwhelming Emotions

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I feel 24/7 that nuclear war or something equally as horrendous is about to happen. I feel trapped, terrified, and think thoughts of escape all the time. The horror I feel cannot be quantified on a blog post. I’ve even begun to think I should die by suicide to end the fear.

 

I know as a child I felt this way many times. I tried to jump from the ledge of a 23rd story window when I was only seven years old because of feeling unable to escape. I have tried to die by suicide many times since then for the same reason.

 

I just want the turmoil to stop. Please, just stop.

 

I Am Exhausted

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I’m exhausted and it’s getting worse by the day. I tried to explain the horrible exhaustion from fighting this shit to my therapist but I’m not sure she understood. I know she is concerned, but perhaps not concerned enough. I don’t know.

 

Eventually, I may need to go inpatient somewhere for a few days but that terrifies me too. I’m afraid they will lock me up inpatient for 7 years again. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.

 

I’d rather die than end up inpatient long-term again.

I have been using all the coping skills I have learned through the years to help me, but I need my Psychiatrist to listen to me and help.

 

I’m in deep trouble.

 

I Desperately Need a Hug

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I didn’t write this post to elicit any responses from anyone. I guess I just needed to write to you to say I understand where you are. I’m one of you. I’m no stranger to feeling defeated, terrified, confused, and desperate.

 

I know those emotions all too well.

 

You see, even after working hard for almost three decades on the issues of DID and the co-occurring mental health issues that accompany it I still occasionally fall into despair.

 

I’m so afraid. I’m so tired. I’m so in need of a hug but terrified of one at the same time.

 

But… I’m not giving up. I can’t. That’s not who I am.

 

 

The most important thing is to never give up, never give in to circumstances, believe yourself, and to soldier on, no matter what’s in your way. ~ Luka Modric

 

 

4 thoughts on “Things Aren’t Rosy Here, in Fact, They are Desperate

    1. Thanks Lari. I’ve tried to tell my Psychiatrist that I need help, but he hasn’t done anything yet. I’ve lost some respect and some hope that he would help me in crisis. That’s too bad. I needed to trust someone.

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