Sorry I Suck

I have sucked lately. I mean SUCKED. As a friend, as a family member, as an employee, as a person, you name it. My mental illnesses have been winning lately. And not winning in a manageable way, either. My medication doesn't work, so I don't sleep or really eat much, but I do cry a lot and feel everything on a level that's almost painful. But what's the hardest is that it isn't obvious to most that I'm hurting, except for the fact that I've said I am. The words "high functioning" have been a blessing and a curse my entire life, because I've always felt I could just out fight my diagnoses by toughing it out and going to work, going to hang out with people, pushing it down. Deep inside I've known that's incorrect, and I've preached against this method of handling ones mental health issues since I was myself diagnosed.

But we can't always live what we speak. I worked myself so hard I crashed out spectacularly. And because I just show up and do it with a smile no matter what "it" is, I've always felt like no one can even notice when I'm spiraling out. I worked myself harder and harder to succeed at a job that I LOVED but I knew wasn't good for me. The pressure of touching people, being surrounded by large amounts of people, running into those who had abused me in some way in the past, and having to try to not have a panic attack while doing it, made me so sick I couldn't even get out of bed.

And then there was the pressure of just existing in a town that starts rumors about everyone who simply exists outside of the box that the town wants to put you in, the stress of having a niece born at 27 weeks, and working through medication adjustment after medication adjustment just to make my high intensity life seem a little duller (thanks to Borderline Personality Disorder I feel everything at an 11). Life has simply become TOO much. I am simply too much right now. I have all these symptoms I understand but can't fully control and no coping mechanisms.

I know I should be going to therapy, but my first experience with a therapist back here had them telling me to just meditate on my trauma. I'm sorry but if the first five therapists couldn't successfully get me to do guided meditation that was productive in my treatment, I doubt the sixth will be able to. I told her my reservations and she told me I had to actually try. I have not been back since. I miss my therapist back in Auburn, she looked like Anna Kendrick and was really good at just letting me rattle but forcing me to reframe negative thoughts and help me understand my illnesses, especially BPD, which is still a fairly new diagnosis for me.

Because of Borderline Personality Disorder, a lot of things that may not seem like a big deal to most people are read as a personal attack by me. Things as small as moving my purse can send me spiraling into anger or hysterical crying, because what the hell did I do to deserve for my purse to be moved, it wasn't hurting anyone, do they just want my things out of sight because they want to forget I live here? And if they want to forget I live here, are they going to move out and leave me? And then Abandonment Issues joins the party and we just keep spiraling through all the symptoms until I'm lying in bed, exhausted and out of emotions.

Because of Borderline Personality Disorder I've started to notice that I connect with people too quickly and rely on them too much. I've worked really hard to not be so codependent but when I feel that someone understands me, I want to be with them or talk to them all the time because no one else does it feels like. So then I rely so much on that person that I basically hug them to death and they run away.

I feel guilty being friends with people. I feel guilty telling people I'm hurting, because my problems seem like they are so numerous that if I open the door, they'll all fall out at once and people will drown in my problems. And then they'll run. I hate when people run. My support circle fluctuates so much because my symptoms have been so out of control.

Trust me guys. I know that I can be toxic to be around. I sit at home and cry about it. I didn't use to lash out at everyone, I used to really internalize things. But lately I've just felt ugly whenever I'm having a low day and I've become mean, and ugly, and I hate it. I feel so guilty after I'm rude, and I never know how to apologize for my brain literally just leaving me behind and making me a monster.

I'm sorry I've sucked so much. I'm trying so hard to be better and be happy and be healthy but it is a fucking struggle. I love you guys.

Alexis Olmstead is 25 years old and lives in Okanogan County, WA. She's currently working on her first photo series that explores what life with anxiety and depression really looks like. When she's not staring at her niece or sleeping, Alexis is watching too much Netflix documentaries about serial killers. Check back sporadically for more posts. But not too often, because this is the first post in like, a year. 

An Update.

Photo from an
upcoming series
by Alexis O

Since moving to Seattle I have been on a mental health roller coaster. I have spent a lot of time sleeping on the couch, and barely any time living. This transition has been hard. I left Omak and my medication behind, the medication being forgotten not because I'm delusional enough to think I don't need it, but because I didn't get a refill and then couldn't find an immediate way to get it over here in Seattle. I've been anxious and depressed, suicidal (no, I don't want to die, this a constant in my life), and exhausted.

As a result, my anxiety attacks have been through the roof. From melting down because I didn't know what type of ice cream sandwich to buy for my cousin to being convinced I had skin cancer (there was a pimple on my arm, I rarely get pimples, have never had one on my arm) and dissociating because of it, I spent three hours paralyzed with fear. According to the intake professional at Sound Mental Health, along with "flight or fight" reactions, there is also "freeze" and what I do is freeze.

Last Monday night I was in the ER being seen for emergency anxiety meds and some other troubling symptoms I'm sure is related to my anxiety, such as the aforementioned dissociation. After speaking with a social worker, I was set up with an appointment at Sound Mental Health within the next two days to get in for a prescription for my depression and anxiety, and to speak with them about the time-lapses and the (I suspect) intense PTSD that I have been repressing until recently, when being sexually assaulted and then upending my life to move across the state caused a lot of anxiety. It was there that I learned that it is very valid to say I have a personality disorder, along with my anxiety and depression. While the professional I spoke to wouldn't diagnose the exact personality disorder due it to just being an intake appointment, and I have some suspicions about what it will be, I will be going back to see another doctor to get more specific answers.

I have decided to start counseling and go on heavier medications to combat the anxiety and depression, because I'm ready to go back to living my life. Even having this idea that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, that I'm moving towards a more stable reality, has given me so much more energy than I had before. I've gone out and met people. I've made plans. I have medication from the ER to tide me over until I get in with a clinician next week, but mostly I have hope.

Having hope while having depression is something that rarely happens. I mean, I barely have the energy to brush my teeth, how am I supposed to muster up the energy to hope for things? Not only can I hope now, but today I did something I haven't done since moving to Seattle. I took a self portrait. I pulled out my camera and I just experienced the joy that photography used to give me. For the first time in months, I got that thrill again. Making art is so soothing. I'm so close to returning to the girl that I recognize as myself. I don't cry myself to sleep anymore, the isolation I first felt when I moved here is quickly disappearing, and I have more and more reasons to smile.

Taking the step to go to the doctor was hard and scary. Medical buildings of any kind tend to send me into panic mode. The feeling of unwellness that surrounds these places weighs on me and makes me feel unwell. I admittedly tried to turn around once I saw the ER doors. I have a great friend in this universe who has given me several pep talks outside hospitals and mental health buildings, I owe a lot of this greatness I feel to him.

I am feeling more broken than I have ever felt before, with more questions than ever, but I am hopeful and excited for the future. A better, stronger version of Alexis is on her way. Watch out.

Alexis Olmstead is a part time barista, full time diva living and working out of Seattle, Washington. She's currently on the search for answers about life, love, the meaning of the universe, and hopefully an affordable apartment. In her spare time she likes to change the lyrics to Earth, Wind, and Fire songs to be about her life. For more spontaneous updates on life with mental health issues, and random thoughts in general, check back often.

If you or someone you know is in danger of committing suicide, there is help, and you are loved. Please call the number below or go to their website for assistance. And as always, I am here for you.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-(800)-273-8255 (online chat available)