When Mental Illness Makes Nothing Feel Right – Even When Nothing Is Wrong
For no reason, it feels like the world is coming to an end. My eyes dart from place to place, around the room, looking from person to person. Something is wrong. I can’t see it, hear it, feel it, or smell it. But it’s all wrong. My heart races and my head throbs with worry. Can they see me struggle? God forbid they hear my thoughts.
Nothing is right, yet nothing is actually wrong. That’s the story of my life right now. I can’t point to anything that’s really all that bad, but my brain is telling me it’s all just too much. I can’t hack it. I can’t live this life anymore. Not like this. I hate my brain — my stupid, anxious, moody, sickly brain. It rushes, surges, rages and sinks all throughout the course of a day. Many days at a time.
I read back over my journals from when I was sicker. At least I’m not that bad. But why can’t I be good? What’s so hard about being good and why can’t I get there and stay there? It’s like a destination that I’m driving to and every turn I take seems to take me further and further away.
I’m following the directions, for goodness sake! I’m doing everything I can think of to do to make it there and it just never happens. I feel like there’s this hotel room called “OK” waiting for me somewhere. A big comfy, soft bed just for me.
Why can’t I find it? Does it even exist?
I have to believe it does. Some days it even feels like I’ve arrived. But in a flash, it disappears out from under me like a mirage.
I have to believe one day I’ll be OK.
If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255, the Trevor Project at 1-866-488-7386 or reach the Crisis Text Line by texting “START” to 741-741.
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