Hi. I stumbled across this site last night while not being able to sleep. I don’t know why I’m here, but I wanted to sign up regardless.
I’m a 19 y/o female living in a house with my mum and my brother, who is 16, in Australia. I have things that so many other people in the world do not. We have our own house, have food in the cupboards and a bedroom each. We love and support each other in our own dysfunctional ways. I see my dad regularly and have a good relationship with him.
I was diagnosed with anxiety when I was ten, OCD at twelve and suffered from random panic attacks throughout primary school. The only memories I have from age 6-11 are blurred with fear.
I tried to kill myself when I was thirteen and was diagnosed with depression about a year and a half later. I started a long battle with marijuana, alcohol and self-harming around this time.
When I was 15 I was hospitalized after a psychotic episode. I stayed in the adolescent ward for two months. Prozac, Seroquel + Valium daily.
I went in again to change medication because I wasn’t coping at home, had lost 15 kilos and had a BMI of 16 at sixteen. I was in the darkest place, couldn’t stop smoking pot and was in so much pain and depression. This admission lasted three of the longest months I’ve had. –Lexapro ++Avanza.
I bounced out, high on life, three months sober and dived into year 11. and then crashed. again. It was either, is, and always has been depression vs. anxiety. I feel one or the other.
I was on a ridiculous dosage of Avanza, and had 2 months of nightly hr long panic attacks caused by this stupid medication.
I told my doctor that if he didn’t take me off it I would stop it myself, which scared the shit out of me because I’d had to have multiple ECGs done as they were increasing it.
I was admitted again, at 17 for a month to change to Zoloft which has definitely been the best AD I’ve been on.
I lost a friend from hospital. He hung himself. I decided I wanted to live. I chose life for the first time in four years. I decided I wanted to become a psychiatric nurse. I couldn’t handle going back to “real” school after 3 attempts at different schools. so I went to TAFE and got a certificate in aged care and then a part time job in a nursing home.
I’ve been doing well this past year. I’m six months into a Diploma of Nursing and I feel like I’m going somewhere for the first time. like there’s something to look forward to. something to aim for. A light at the end of the tunnel that isn’t the train.
I turned nineteen a few days ago. I’ve been miserable for about a month and the darkness is clouding over again. and I don’t know why. I don’t know how much more pain I can take. I don’t know why I’m still here, or how. I fluctuate between wanting to be and not. I have lost my passion, my spark. I have lost the personality of the person I was becoming. somebody I could actually stand. I have lost my voice again. hence writing this. If you’ve made it this far you must be as bored as I was last night. I’m desperate. I can’t keep living for the sake of it. I need to want it again. I can’t do this anymore. ha. the amount of times I have said that.
thanks for listening/reading.
– M. x