‘Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.’ Dr. Seuss

It’s hard to actually see your own recovery

Unlike your relapse

Which you can replay without hesitation in your mind

Recovery is different

It’s like one day you’re a total fucking basket case

And then you blink your eyes and you’re you again

Maybe if you’re like me

You started to experience brief moments of you again

So you hoped and wished that it meant you were finally coming back

And then one day

Visiting your own condo

You instinctually know

Something is different

Something has changed

The me that was gone

The me that I was so sure I’d lost

That me came back

Now

Looking at her in the mirror

It’s so hard to imagine how badly things had gotten

How far away she seemed

How trapped in her own mind she’d become

And now

Here she is

Standing before me

Looking back at me

She’s far from perfect

Not even close to almost

And yet I’ve never been happier to see my own reflection staring back at me

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‘Only In The Darkness Can You See The Stars.’ Martin Luther King Jr

Its been three weeks since I slept in my own bed

It’s been one month since I went to the first emerge

It’s been four weeks and two days since I spent a night in a crisis centre

It’s been four weeks and one day since I went to the emerge in Collingwood

It’s been three weeks and two days since I sat in my neuro psychiatrists office crying and begging for help

It’s been three weeks less a day that I went back on 40 mg of Paxil

It’s been three weeks of good days, bad days and horrible days

Its been one day since I saw my neuro psychiatrist again and he upped my dosage to 50mg of Paxil to get me through this ‘crisis’

It’s been one day since he told me there was a significant gap in the mental health system which is why my wait for OHIP covered CBT is taking so long

Its been one day since he gave me the info of a private clinic

Its been thirteen hours since I started my new dose

It’s been thirteen hours with my stomach in knots

It’s been thirteen hours of fears, what if’s and so much more hope than I ever thought I had

One day at a time never felt quite so long

I know I’m not patient

But I’ll keep waiting if it means I get even a small fraction of a happy ending

I’ll keep waiting if it means that the last month hasn’t been in vain

I’ll wait as long as I can keep finding shards of light in the darkness

I’ll wait even it’s just a flicker

I can’t help but worry

I can’t help but wonder how long the world will wait for me…

‘I Have Loved The Stars Too Fondly To Be Fearful Of The Night.’ Sarah Williams

Three weeks ago

I felt scared

I felt panicked

I felt unsure

I felt lost

I felt alone

I felt weak

I felt crazy

Three weeks later

I feel strong

I feel empowered

I feel courageous

I feel a little invincible

I feel like a conquistador

I feel proud

I feel brave

Tonight

I want to bottle this feeling

Memorize this moment

So that I can take it out when I need a reminder

Of who I am

Of what I’ve overcome

Someday

I want to look back on this

Without regret

Without sadness

Without bitterness

And only feel proud

That what I endured

Didn’t break me

It didn’t shatter me into millions of sharp pieces

Instead

A fire within me was ignited

Inflamed by my struggles

Emboldened by my heartache

It burns so bright and so fiercely

That I wonder if the stars above will take notice

Unsure if I’m beckoning them

Or trying to outshine them

We’re the same though

The stars and I

We’re both exploding from our depths

And illuminating what would have been total darkness

The Only Way Out Is Through

It’s been something like two and a half weeks since I lost my mind
Countless days and nights that I haven’t felt like myself
That my skin hasn’t felt like my own
Two and a half weeks since I went to two different emergency rooms
Two and a half weeks since I spent the night at a crisis centre
Two and a half weeks since I first lost my appetite
Two and a half weeks since I first started having irrational and obsessive thoughts on top of multiple panic attacks per day
Two and a half weeks since I became scared to be alone
Scared in my own home
Scared of my own mind
It’s been a week and a day since I came to stay with my parents
It’s been a week and a day and I’ve only been comfortable being left alone once for a short period
It’s been a week and a half since I told my neuro psychiatrist what I was experiencing
It’s been a week and a half since I went back to my old full dose of Paxil
It’s been a week and a half of 3-4 Ativan per day
It’s been a week and a half of nausea, grogginess, headaches, crying fits and having my appetite return
It’s been a week and a day since I haven’t went to bed in my own home
Where I haven’t seen Joey either right before bed or as soon as I wake in the morning
A week and a day since I last napped with my dogs
4 days until I call my neuro psychiatrist to let him know how I’m doing
5 days until I start paying for Cognitive Behavioural Therapy
Unknown days until I return home
Unknown days until I don’t wake up afraid of a day filled with panic attacks
Unknown days until I don’t fall asleep fearing another day of panic attacks
Zero days that I haven’t wished for a different life
Zero days that I felt like I had the strength, courage and determination to get through this
Today though…is a special day
It’s the day where I wrote
Today is the day that I got my voice back


‘At Times, Our Own Light Goes Out And Is Rekindled By A Spark From Another Person.’ Albert Schweitzer

Dear David (from Gerstein Crisis Centre)

It’s taken me four days to finally be able to compose this letter.

Not because I didn’t care to but because I became too emotional whenever I thought about your kindness towards me during my short stay at Gerstein.

You were the first person during my ordeal who did not see someone who was ‘weak’ and ‘needy’ but instead you saw someone who was tired of fighting so hard.

Someone who just needed a safe place to land.

You gave me that.

From the very minute I stood in front of the office doors as a crying hot mess, until we had talked long enough for me to enter a sleep-like.

state.

You threw me a lifeline.

You listened.

You talked.

You joked.

You laughed.

You related.

You made me feel heard and understood, and there are not simply enough words in the English language to convey my complete gratitude towards you for that.

So from one panic attack sufferer to another…

In words I know you’ll understand best.

I’ll just say:

I’d lay down in the snow with you, until your panic attack passes. 😊

Forever grateful,

Angela

PS if anyone knows him or how to get in touch with him let me know

‘That Which Does Not Kill Us, Makes Us Stronger.’ Nietzsche

Mornings and late late nights are my worst

So far, I’ve made it through 7 mornings and 6 late late nights

Though it felt more like months of both

My body is tired

From ingesting little more than diabetic meal replacement drinks

And the occasional PB and J sandwich

I never thought it could get so bad

Correction

I never thought it would get this bad, again

Although it feels new to me

In many ways I’ve done this before

From calling crisis centres to emerge visits and drinking meal replacers and med changes

I guess I should say

I hoped it would never get this bad again

I know the old adage of ‘that which does not kill us, makes us stronger’

But I think I’d be fine not being tested for the millionth time on my strength

I think I’d prefer something like

‘You’ve been through the worst, it’s all sunshine and meadows ahead’

Shit

I’d even settle for something like

‘Way to go Angela!

It’s all overcast and fields of manure with the occasional sun shower ahead.

Yeah

I could settle for that

‘The Mind Is A Terrible Thing To Taste.’ Ministry

So I’m laying in bed thinking about my panic attacks

Crying

Hot frustrated tears

Because even still

I just can’t wrap my head around the why

If I know that my fears are unfounded

That I won’t spontaneously ‘go crazy’

And that I’m safe

That my panic attack won’t last forever

If I have evidence to prove that as well

Then why in the actual fuck am I still having these ridiculously soul wrenching panic attacks?

The kind that exhaust me

Leaving me crumpled in bed

Sleeping in an Ativan induced stupor

It seems that I have all the knowledge and the tools

Necessary to overcome all of this

And yet

Here I am

Terrified still

Of not just being in a state of panic

But of simply having another panic attack

Ugh

I want to beat my head in exasperation

So many years later

Having survived innumerable panic attacks

Fearless in the face of meeting the boogeyman

Unafraid of being awakened by things that go bump in the night

Completely confused

Why I’m still tormented by the threat of another panic attack

And yet somehow it seems perfectly fitting

That the only thing that could truly terrify me

Is my own fucked up mind