I have been struggling with mental disorders for most of my life.

I am going to start therapy soon to get properly diagnosed and treated. I never could due to poverty and sometimes homelessness but I am moving to a place where I can get medicaid for both my physical illness and my mental illnesses. That being said, it is pretty obvious to me, and anyone who spends time with me, that at the least I have depression, anxiety, and PTSD.

• My Anxiety

  I started having really bad anxiety when I was fairly young. I remember my mom telling me to go to the store for her when I was maybe 9 and I got such bad anxiety while trying to check out that I left everything on the counter and ran away crying. I will admit that I have done the same thing as an adult. Although now I normally know when I am about to lose it and take off before I get the items down. A few years ago I went to the food court in the mall and got so overwhelmed by the crowd and the noises that I had to leave the mall.

  I also just experience generalized anxiety all day, every day. I am worrying about something every single day. And as soon as one fear is proven to be false another fear replaces it. I usually have many scary thoughts just circling in my head constantly and crippling me. I sometimes get nothing done due to this anxiety especially when couple with severe depression.

  The worry often turns into panic and full on panic attacks. I have several times had such a bad attack I passed out and woke up with an injured head.

  • My depression

    I have suffered from depression from a very early age too. I experienced a lot of abuse as a kid and I self-harmed as a teen and have tried to kill myself multiple times. The first time I tried to kill myself I was 12. Granted I ate a bottle of pills that wouldn't kill me but it did make me turn completely white and collapse in front of my mom. When she found out I had eaten the pills she sat me down and asked if I needed help or a person to talk to and I broke down crying and saying "Yes, yes please, I need to talk to someone." She got up, screamed that I wasn't getting out of school, and slammed the door. I never got help.

    I was going to tell them how I was being molested by my father and another relative.

    Since then I have been pretty regularly depressed. Someone asked me just a few days ago if I ever want to kill myself and I answered "Every day" with a chuckle. They laughed too but I wasn't lying. I wake up on more days than not and lay in bed thinking about killing myself. I don't plan to kill myself. I have a cat who is unadoptable who I love and I would hate to hurt all of my friends and I would hate to fail and just live with more pain and potentially being severely crippled. It's just a dull desire, always in the back of my head. When I found out 4 months ago that I had almost drowned myself accidentally in a tub while black out drunk I was severely disappointed that my friend had caught me in time. I obsessed over it for weeks, thinking of how I had missed such a great opportunity. But I won't try to kill myself. Don't worry. On the contrary I am trying to live and I am getting help .

    Some days depression is less intense. Some days I simply can't find the energy to get out bed. Some days I feel nothing at all and it's all I can do to sleep the day away. This sometimes lasts for many days in a row. I may not eat. I may not shower, and I may not get out of bed. A lot of people think it's laziness or a lack of ambition but it is entirely out of my control when I get into one of these funks. No amount of telling myself it is irrational is going to change my brain chemistry. (which is why I am now open to medication)

    
    Alexandre-Gabriel Decamps - The Suicide - Walters circa 1836

    Kind of eerie to think of how far back there have been people who have been so unhappy with life that they were taking their own lives.

    • My PTSD

    I am sure I have always had this on some level from all of the horrific abuse I endured as a child but when it became textbook PTSD was only about a year ago when I was dating an ex-con who I believed "had changed" and he ended up assaulting me violently. I was only dating him about 3 months when I had finally had enough of his temper, and his jealousy so I told him I was done and we were over. He went insane, he picked up my backpack and hurled it into a wall. It had my laptop in it so I responded by throwing his laptop. Not really the best idea as that lead him to get much, much more angry and he began physically assaulting me while also screaming about what a fat, ugly, piece of garbage I am. I fought him off by kicking him repeatedly with my steel toed boots and then getting out my cell phone and telling him I would call the police if he didn't get far away from me while I got my stuff. (probably should have just called but, hindsight) He tried to get me into his truck and I ran toward a neighbor's home and started screaming loudly about what he had done to me and why I wouldn't get in his truck until he drove off scared.

    He harassed me for weeks after that writing me nasty messages. He also had a lot of guns. And knew where I lived. I woke up every night every 20 minutes sweating and in a panic. Sometimes seeing hallucinations. This went on severely for months. It got a little better once I moved out of that house but I still have nightmares and I still flinch if people move quickly or reach toward my face.

    

    My plan for recovery.

    I have already started my recovery. I cut out all abusive people and my toxic family. I stopped letting people walk all over me. And, a big part of it, is I started talking openly, publicly about my past and my struggles, here on steemit. Since starting to be open I have gotten messages from several abused people who thanked me and told me how my courage is giving them a voice and motivation to talk about their own abuse. That helps me. That gives me a sense of purpose and direction. I am also going to get medicaid as soon as I get to MN. (it may take awhile to get but I will start the process immediately upon arriving in 3 weeks) I will go to regular therapy and I will try medication for my depression and anxiety.

    I am also creating art. Constantly. Almost every day. And that is going a long way to helping me recover.

    If everything I have been through didn't take me out I am going to keep fighting. I am not going to let my mental illness (or my physical illness) take my life from me. I am going to fight and one day I am going to be happy.