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(Disclaimer: This has been written as I need to vent in my office in the span of 3 hours in total. Those are thoughts that went through my mind.)
I'm considering to finally get a diagnosis.
It suddenly hit me. I can't feel free until I finally know the answer: do I actually have a mental illness?
My boyfriend (who I love dearly) recommended me AJ Mendez's Crazy is My Superpower, and I just googled a little more about her since I'm not really into the wrestling scene. Quotes of later chapters started appearing. One said how glad AJ was to have been diagnosed, helping her to finally take care of her mental health. All of the sudden, I felt the need to get a diagnosis as well.
I've been anxious my entire life, but never sat down in an office and been told "you have anxiety" or "you're bipolar", thus getting treatment I'm pretty sure I needed. I don't know why it never happened. My family always said I was just being a baby whenever I was too scared to ask a simple question to strangers. In my head, I imagined they'd think I'm stupid, or ignore me, or be rude to me. You're simply asking them on which side is Jarry Street. Eventually, I got over that fear. I'll admit I still avoid human interaction as much as possible, but at least I don't care what strangers think of me, I understand that anyone could ask any random question to me and I wouldn't feel mad answering them.
Then along came college.
More precisely, I started my Social Services program. A somewhat socially anxious dweeb wanted to get paid by counselling people on how to make their lives better, when she doesn't do anything to make hers better. I was determined to finish that program and get a job.
I never worked before in my entire life. Sure, I volunteered in high school once in a while, but I never had to work for a boss who pays me for doing what had to be done throughout the day. I never had to be responsible for anything, so naturally I never worried or gave a crap about how well I did. In school, you get the passing grade and it's done. It was my internships that made me realize I just... didn't care. Like yeah, I have to be productive when there's no calls or people visiting, but instead I'd doodle or go on Facebook (or vent on Novni). I still do that in my current paying job. I'm doing that at the moment you're reading this.
Not only do I know I'm a useless piece of crap at work, I've been also bad at organizing myself. I've procrastinated plans for my vacation, my credit card, going out with friends... It's like the moment I get home, I'm in a coma. My brain is processing so many scenarios of undone chores, important plans, but my body can't move. "Not today, but certainly tomorrow." I keep telling myself, trying to feel less guilty.
It wasn't like that before. I always had time for appointments, to meet up with my friends, try new things, do homework. Is it really just because I'm tired right after work? But everyone goes through that. Am I just lazy? I am lazy. I'd rather spend an hour writing this down instead of observing employees.
I feel afraid. Afraid to fail. Afraid to seem awkward. I'm having a flashback of Saturday. I yelled at my boyfriend because I was shaking with anixety, maybe a panic attack, or was it a down? It wasn't his fault. I was bitter all night. I had snappy comebacks everytime he tried to make feel better. I humiliated him in front of his friends. They were mad I'm sure. They have a picnic and they haven't invited me. They think I'm a bitch. My boyfriend is still upset. He's been distant ever since. We still talk, but very briefly. I don't blame him. I'd want space too, but I wouldn't want to leave him...
There it is. Not only my first ever real job is causing anxiety, but my first ever real healthy relationship. My brain keeps showing me scenarios of him deliberately lying to me, cheating on me, talking bad about me, being annoyed with me, secretly hating me, when all he's doing is leaving me on seen because he's at work and can't have his phone on him. "But then why did he have his phone on him in the first place if it's just to leave you on seen? He'll read your message, but won't take 3 seconds to reply?" That's what I have to deal with. What my boyfriend has to deal with. It's not normal. It's not healthy.
I don't want to lose him, or my friends or my job because of my brain.
I need to know what's up with my brain. Why isn't my brain functionning like any other human being? Why can't I just deal with it? Why can't I just stop jumping to conclusions and rationalize the situation? I'm hurting the ones I love because of my stupid brain.
That's why I need to start at getting a diagnosis first. This way, hopefully, I could get the help I need to spare my loved ones from anymore suffering. They probably won't be reading this, but I hope they know I love them. Even though, I'm a complete nutcase, I love them. I want to become better for them. Sure, I've got to get better for me, but I'm doing it for them first. They're all I care about.
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