Tag Archives: mental health

February 27, 2020

Chaos Shock

By Rhonda

I am broken. And every so often – more often than I’d like to admit – I experience what I call “chaos shock”, where my entire existence malfunctions. Every inch of me – mentally, physically, emotionally – erupts with quick, violent spasms, or so it feels. I am completely overwhelmed, traumatized, to the point that I go into shock – chaos shock – and there is absolutely nothing I can do to relieve such a level of distress.

When this happens, I have to ride it out. My mind, my body, my soul – all of me has to ride it out and stay the fuck away from drugs and alcohol. And I really mean it when I say I have to do absolutely nothing, except ride it out, because even the most mundane thought, the slightest movement, can send me spiraling toward a severe manic or depressive episode.

So I sit, and I breathe, and I pray that I make it through okay. And most times, I do make it through okay, as long as I stay the fuck away from drugs and alcohol and eventually fall asleep. Because if I don’t stay the fuck away from that shit, well, good luck to me.

***

I’m fucked, y’all.

I couldn’t stay the fuck away from drugs and alcohol. I told y’all what a bad idea that shit is, yet here I am, now zooming toward a complete system shutdown. Every inch of me – mentally, physically, emotionally – overcome with agonizing uncertainty. Will I make it through? Will I be okay? I’m gasping for air, desperate for a sign.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why do I do this? Time and time again, why do I do this? It’s torture, self-inflicted torture. And every time this happens, my mind, my body, my soul – all of me – grows weaker. Fuck, even just the chaos shock alone leaves all of me weaker. Soon enough, I will be too frail to endure such brutality. My existence can only handle so many malfunctions. Then what? Death? At least I’ll no longer be broken.

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December 27, 2019

Holiday Bullshit

By Rhonda

It’s the holiday season, and I’m back on that bullshit.
The end of the year always gets me down.
Joyful, Joyful. I don’t feel so joyful.
I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. The weight of the entire world.
I just want to disconnect.
Snap out of it. Stay present.
You gotta get through this.
You gotta get through this, and you better enjoy it.
You have one life. Just this one life, and you better enjoy it.
Who knows how many holiday seasons you have left.
Anything can happen.
Fuck.
Stop thinking about death. You’re always thinking about death.
Stay calm. Everything is going to be okay.
But how does anyone know for sure?
They don’t.
All of this is meaningless. Why is everything so meaningless?
Why am I the only one freaking out?
I just don’t understand.
Send help.
It’s the holiday season, and I’m back on that bullshit.

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April 27, 2019

Trapped in a Well of Despair

By Rhonda

Being me is extremely uncomfortable. The amount of self hatred I have makes my skin crawl. I feel so disconnected from reality, like I am battling a constant identity crisis and I am in so deep that I can’t be present. I can’t mentally engage with the world.

I often wonder if there is anyone else out there who suffers the same way I do. I struggle every day to get out of bed, and I continue to struggle until my head hits the pillow again. I feel so unaccomplished, and the guilt burns deep within my soul, often paralyzing my body and my mind.

Every night, I go to bed hopeful that tomorrow will be a better day, that tomorrow I will do something that makes me proud. But when my alarm rings the next morning, I have no motivation to get up and get moving. What I feel is absolute exhaustion, and it is near impossible to push through it. So, I turn off my alarm and go back to sleep… until I wake up again with excrutiating anxiety from being a failure once again.

I am sick and tired of feeling worthless, but life is meaningless. We do nothing but work, and we have endless responsibilities. All for nothing. We just die, we cease to exist. And what is the point of that? I can’t find one. Maybe if there was a reason for all of this trouble, like if there was an afterlife. But there isn’t. So, how do I get excited to live, to be me, when there is nothing special about me? I just live to die like everyone else. Honestly, I have no clue how other people ignore this fact, how they convince themselves they are leading a life of purpose. I wish I had their false sense of importance.

Is there any hope for me?

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April 27, 2019

The Identity Crisis Within

By Rhonda

Being me is exhausting, confusing, depressing… but also exciting. Every day is a whirlwind of chaos, contradicting emotions and unpredictable behavior. How I feel one minute is not how I’ll feel the next. Because I never know what’s coming, I can’t prepare for it. And, because the mood swings are so sudden and intense, it’s near impossible to understand what’s happening to me, and near impossible to control my responses. So, my decisions are inconsistent, and somewhat dependent on my everchanging mood.

It’s hard for others to understand, but it’s almost like I have multiple identities, each one fighting for control over my one body, and there’s no telling which one will win what battle. Maybe that’s why I am exhausted, weak and hungry all the time. While others have one identity to nourish, I have five – all so very different but very much alive.

When I try to talk to my family about my “issues,” they say it’s all in my head. Well, no shit. I clearly don’t have a physical disability. Yeah, my chest bone sticks out farther than my boobs, my ass is a little saggy and my face will always have acne, but overall, I think it’s safe to say, I am physically okay. One could even argue I am more than okay. I should probably eat less carbs and work out more, but besides that, I am healthy (or at least that’s what my doctor said at my last physical). So, thank you, family, for your input. But, this is not a question of whether it’s “all in my head,” but a question of how I cope with my inner battles – how I learn to understand and satisfy each of my identities – so I can thrive, and maybe even achieve my fullest potential.

I suffer from memory loss – I can’t recall what I say to people, not even 10 seconds after I say something, and I sure as hell can’t remember much of my childhood. I sometimes wonder if the reason I suffer from memory loss is because life, from my point of view, is a blur. My inner battles make it impossible to focus. In fact, I never truly feel present. Physically, I’m all here, but mentally, I can’t escape my thoughts – I feel trapped.

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February 27, 2019

My Anxiety, Intro

By Rhonda

I am always sick. Every four weeks like clockwork, I come down with a sinus infection, or at least something that resembles a sinus infection. Honestly, I don’t know anymore. All I know is the symptoms – headache, sore throat, congestion, body aches, fever – last for two to three weeks every time, and they never fully subside. In between sinus infections, I still feel pain in my head, ears and throat. I’ve visited specialists, but no one knows what is wrong with me. Maybe my allergist is right – maybe it is my anxiety. It is so out of control, my body can’t handle it. 

I’ve never fully opened up to anyone about my anxiety. When someone asks me about it, I just brush it off and act like it’s no big deal; when in reality, it is a big deal – It is a big fucking deal. It’s just my anxiety has so many levels to it, I don’t even know where to begin. So, I guess you can say this is my attempt to begin, to explain just one tiny part of my anxiety hell hole. Consider it an intro, if you will. (I’m a fucking wreck.)

I put way too much pressure on myself. So much so, I can barely make it through each day, and there is absolutely no reason for me to even put this much pressure on myself, but I can’t stop. I don’t know how. And the older I get, the worse it gets. I just feel like I’ve wasted so much of my life partying, bullshitting, that now I have to make up for lost time. I have been on this earth for almost 32 years, and yet I have nothing to show for it. My life up to this point as been worthless. So, I feel like I have to push myself to accomplish goal after goal, project after project, because I don’t have time to spare, I don’t have time to fuck around anymore.

Why do I care so much about my accomplishments? About chasing my dreams? Why can’t I just live in ignorance and bliss like most of the people around me? Why do I value self-improvement over everything else? I have a never-ending list of projects, which I mean who doesn’t, but the pressure I put on myself to complete these projects is overwhelming, almost paralyzing. Still, they are my focus – Completing them will make me happy, will make me feel less of a failure.

My desperation for success and my endless projects aren’t the only things that give me anxiety. No, it’s also the fact that there is too much to do, and too little time. Week after week, I am so overwhelmed by other priorities – work, errands, appointments, household chores, etc. – I often feel like I am drowning, like I can’t even keep up with my daily to-dos. And, these things have to come first; there’s nothing I can do about that. So, once all is said and done, I don’t have much free time, and in the little free time I do have, I have to choose between my goals, my projects and spending time with friends and family. And honestly, I’d rather use my time wisely, chipping away at my projects and working toward my goals, than spend time with loved ones, which no one understands.

As I’ve said before, I have wasted too much of my life being a fucking hot mess, and now all I want to do is focus on being the best version of myself. I want to be happy, but happiness to me is doing what I want, not having to give into the demands of others. Why is that so hard for people to understand? Why is it not okay for me to chase my dreams? I can’t be there for others unless I am first there for myself.

And on that note, why the fuck do people expect me to go out of my way to spend time with them? The only time I hear from my loved ones is when they are complaining that I don’t care about them anymore, which is bullshit. If they have all this time on their hands, why don’t they come to me instead of making me always come to them? Why am I the only person with a full schedule and dreams they want to chase?

Of course, all of this is exhausting, so I have to take time each week to do something fun, to enjoy my hobbies, or I will completely lose my sanity. Though, nothing ever feels truly “fun” anymore. Everything I do, no matter how relaxing, feels like a chore because I have to strategically plan out every hour of every day, in order to make sure I have time for as much as possible.

Anyway, none of that even compares to the deep-seeded reason my anxiety eats at me. My everyday battle against the clock is just a result of me not being able to accept the fact that our lives mean nothing. When we die, we just cease to exist, and that’s it. That’s all there ever was. So, day in and day out, I struggle to grasp WHY. Why do we go through such pain and torture for no fucking reason? Why do we have such complex lives, just to die? I don’t want to die. So, I guess you could say the idea freaks me out so much that I put extreme pressure on myself to make the most of every moment, to create something that will live on in some way. I just wish there was a way for me to strive for greatness and feel inner peace at the same time…

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