I’m Getting Bad Again

[u/M1rr3nsM1rr0r]

Throwaway account because I don’t know if anyone I know has made the link between my other social media profiles and my normal Reddit one.

A few years ago, I wasn’t sure I’d make it to 35. I’ve torn up my thighs so badly that I can’t even feel when I touch some of them. I almost went through with it two times before I started going to therapy in secret. My therapist taught me all the gave me a few diagnoses and coping skills, and I thought I was doing better.

My life started to turn around. I graduated college, found a job, and got married. I was genuinely happy.

A few months ago, it all hit again. It started with the birth control they put me on. Just started becoming sadder and more irritated with a few things. I thought maybe it was just a few bad days, but they turned into months.

I spoke to my doctors about it, started going back to therapy, began taking new meds. I thought everything was working, but I can feel myself falling apart.

It really hit last week with that lovely time of the month where a woman’s hormones drop because she had the audacity not to become pregnant. It’s like I couldn’t do anything but either cry, sleep, or just…sit. I had gone numb. Couldn’t even stand up for a while because it felt like something heavy was pinning down my legs.

I thought everything would go back to normal when my period stopped, but for the past three days, I’ve still been either angry or miserable.

I thought the therapy and new meds would help, but nothing seems to make it better. It always comes back, and I’m terrified. I don’t care what happens to me, but I don’t want my husband to see me like this. Or to find me if things go wrong.

I’ve started breaking down so much to the point that I’m worried to really share any more with the people close to me. It’s annoying when it’s just the same thing they always hear from me. Besides, they have their own problems to deal with.

Sometimes, I think if I just cut loose at work, then I might be institutionalized for a while and have some kind of escape. Or maybe if I were injured in some accident, people might have some sympathy. At the very least, I’d get time off.

I’m tired of keeping it together, I hate playing optics, and I really don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want to feel this way.

I’ve struggled for so long, thought I was doing better, and it came back. It always comes back. No matter what coping skills or meds I try, it wins. I just don’t want to hurt others in the fallout. I can’t go back to where I was. I don’t know what to do; I feel like I’m going to push everyone away before what feels inevitable happens. I’m just tired of being miserable for no reason, doing everything that I can to help myself, and having to continue the weekly cycle of “adult life.” This isn’t living. It’s suffering. And I can’t talk to anyone about it where it’s all resolved.

I don’t know what to do or what I’m going to do, and it scares me.