I can’t even swallow without wondering if my throat is closing up.
Since I went off the medication I hardly talk about what I have been going through with it. I keep telling myself every single day that I am alright. Everything is going to be alright. Much of what is going through my mind can be negotiated. Especially the attacks that use to rule my life. Telling myself that I am managing it, seems to make it sound like I am more in control of it.
I am blue though.
Blue sounds so much better than frustrated, overwhelmed, annoyed, depressed, and just plain ‘what the f*ck ever’
Ever wish you were rich and had a winter/summer cabin in the woods where you can go and it’s nice and quiet and it’s too far out so people can’t just pop in? You can go into your kitchen and know everything is right where you left it. You won’t open the cupboard and find THIS.
I don’t want this anymore. Why can’t people take me seriously?