I was a workaholic. I was putting it over 60 hrs a week some weeks. I used work as a way to distract my mind. Then my mind couldn't handle it anymore. The traumas I endured before I could even form sentences have begun creeping through the cracks like sludge. I can't go to work. The lights, the noise, the crowd each sends off alarms in my mind. I look at my hands searching for a hint of realness. There is none.
I feel my mouth move, there are words but I don't know what they are. I'm reminded of how there was a time I only babbled, a time before words were tangible, when I was young. My friend laughs, I must have said something funny but it was lost to my own ears. I can't understand him, I feel sick to my stomach, my own language lost to my mind. My muscles twitch subtly, a reminder of my daily medication -a side effect of trying to heal.
My job began to slip away from me - now I'm not even there. I'm home, stretched out on my office futon waiting for phone calls. Desperate the heal, so unsure of what to do. I don't know what to do. I meditate, I do yoga, it helps in the moment and when I leave my room I settle back into dissociation - a default setting 15 years strong.
I search online for online support, zoom meetings, groups, forums, chat rooms, therapists - I can't do this alone. I'm in over my head. My girlfriend watched my struggles with love, and promise that it's okay that I struggle. But to myself I feel like a failure. I can't work, what good am #Depression #Work #Anxiety #dissociativedisorders #Depersonalization
#Derealization #tired #depressed #MentalHealth #Unsure