I was going to start this off with “You have no idea”. 

That’s too accusing though since I don’t have a clue either.

I’m in a world of self-loathing right now.

It’s not that I didn’t work this weekend. It’s not that I’m lazy. It’s not that I’m sitting on my ass doing nothing. 

While many were enjoying the nice, long weekend, I was working. I worked over 20 hours at my job in the last 4 days. In my down time, I have been practicing, running errands, or doing homework. Not only am I trying to adjust to being a full-time student again, I’m a full-time student with about 17 credits this semester. 

Now, I can look at all of this. Like, I know I’m doing something. I just feel like it isn’t enough. Reality is that it isn’t enough. There’s always something I can be working on. I’m not good enough. I’m not good enough. I’m not good enough.

It’s repeating in my head constantly. It hasn’t stopped for the last month. Not only that, but I’ve become increasingly worse with attending doctors appointments, taking medications, remembering to fill prescriptions, practicing meditation, working out, eating well, and so on.

It starts off like this. I feel constantly overwhelmed. Nothing I do is ever enough. I get so freaked out by this fact that I begin to withdraw. I stop socializing because it causes me too much anxiety. Then I stop going to class because I’m behind on the work and the thought of being in a room with people terrifies me especially my peers who are constantly judging me. And then I take a step back and realize what is happening. My anxiety has officially taken over my life and I feel completely helpless to it so I fall into this spiraling depression which results in self-harm and thoughts of suicide. Before I know what’s happening, I’m my hands are fully extended and shaking holding onto several pills. They’re a mix of NSAIDs, SSRIs, and other various medications that I’ve collected. I never throw away prescription pills, even if I seriously don’t have a need for the medication anymore. 

But I always put them back in their bottles. At least, I always have. 

I’m not sure who to turn to right now because I see the signs beginning and my next appointment with my therapist isn’t for another week. 

I kind of love and hate my psychology classes. I know exactly what is happening. Or at least, I know my symptoms and can feel the beginning of another episode. Doesn’t mean I know shit as to what to do about it.

I know about as much as the scientists do. My deficits are too strong right now and I just want to hide from it all. 

I hate how much this thing devours me.


One thought on “Devour

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