I wanted to be sick.

In the last several months, I have been fortunate enough to have access to free healthcare, provided by local volunteer doctors and hospitals. I have been tested for epilepsy by receiving an EEG, I had a full lab workup, I had an MRI on my brain, and recently was lucky enough to get in on a sleep study to see if I’m narcoleptic. ALL of these tests have produced NOTHING. Heartache and stress, but not any information on my current conditions. I’ve been so frustrated with the results, I just break down and cry.

I will admit, I was in a bad place today, emotionally. I woke up with a severe migraine due to the storms and pressure (tropical depression Beryl). I laid in bed all day with an icepack on my head, by myself. I felt so lonely and agoraphobic, at the same time. This is a bad combination for when you have plenty of time to lay in bed and ruminate on shit. This would be exactly what I did, and it got me to thinking about my health. I wished they had found something wrong in my MRI, or that I was epileptic. I wanted to know that there was a reason for feeling like I do. I also wanted something terminal, so that it would take me out and I would also gain sympathy from those few who do care for me. I realize how bad that sounds, but it’s how I felt this afternoon.

When you deal with suicidality, and the obsessive thinking that I do, everyday, it can be exhausting. I don’t really want to die, I just don’t want to feel like I do anymore to the point where death seems to be the only option. My logical brain, the slower brain compared to emotional brain, knows perfectly how wrong all of this thinking is, but it is too slow. My emotional brain is lightening fast and tends to bully the logical brain into shutting the hell up.

Living, surviving, and attempting to cope, hour by hour, is not how I envisioned myself living right now. I have too much fire, too much dedication, and far too much pride to be dependent on everyone but myself. I want to help people and I can’t help myself.

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6 thoughts on “I wanted to be sick.

  1. That makes so much sense, it could have been me (a short while ago) writing. I don’t even have magical words to make it better but all I can say is I totally get what you’re saying, and it’s not too much. I really hope that you can get some answers somehow and then be able to help yourself so that you can go onto to help others. It will happen. I really believe that, although for many years I didn’t.

  2. Seems like, after all these test results, your left with yourmental health effecting your physical health in a number of ways. Any chance of getting to a shrink or councelor or mental health program with this health insurance that is not health insurance? Keep on keeping on dear one, you are worth it! you are loved. you are needed. you need only remember that you were created to be and to share love. you have dreams, you need to realize! ❤

      • You need to tell therapist all these things. The si, the hopelessness etc…either you need a med adjustment-they are not working for you!- or maybe a diff therapist. You need more help than your getting and more than this blog can offer at this time. Keep screaming as you can only do for more help from the ‘professionals’ and meds check. There is definitely more help to be had! I’ve been really unhappy, as many have been, and with proper therapy, therapist, and meds, life is so worth living. You can climb out of the hole too Sister ❤

  3. I can relate. I am often at doctors who find nothing wrong with me. I went to one yesterday. And I flat out told him that I’d rather just die. Not sure how to stop the cycle but i do wish it would end. Sending you some love.

  4. I feel like we are true sisters on this journey, Doll. I feel just like you do more days than I can count. Though I’ve never lifted a blade to my skin, I’ve fantasized about it far more than I care to admit. The insidious part of being at the receiving end of trauma is not only how deeply, emotionally, and physiologically damaging it can be, but how it assaults us again and again when we least expect it. For me, terror is the only word that comes close to describing what’s left in the wake of its calamity. And when does this end? I don’t know yet. But I do know that every day, I find a reason, however small, to keep the blade away. Most of the time, to be honest, it’s my dog. I’ll be going about my business, obsessing, stressing, chewing my fingers to the bone, then I’ll happen to glance over at my seven pound yorkie poo, that is cuter than a Bund bear, lightly snoring, napping in doggy dream land, whilst laying on her back. The cuteness melts me, and I can’t help but smile, and crawl over to her to give her a long snuggle of gratitude, for yet again giving me my reason for the day to back away from my cliffs. If you ever want to borrow her for the day, she’s yours. : ) Guaranteed heartwarming and smiles galore.

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