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Death From Above

Well, this is unexpected. I rarely write at home. It is quite convenient to sit in the classroom before a lecture and type out my feelings on a laptop. But the really unexpected experience right now is the cluster of anxiety I have enjoyed the past couple of days. When I was a teenager in high school I dealt with major anxiety and panic attacks for a couple of years. They grew to such a strength that my "best" method of dealing with them was self mutilation. The massive assault of physical pain helped to combat the mental anguish. There were even a couple of times that I hallucinated people who were not there, although I really do not know why. That was a horrible time, and one of the main medications that was used to combat it was Xanax. I had to use it so regularly that I became addicted to it. What a horrible, horrible experience. Weaning off that drug was like pulling my fingernails out with pliers. No thank you. So, when I talked to my doctor about getting something for breakthrough anxiety, I told him the only way I would consider Xanax again is if I did not have to take it regularly.

The past two days I have had to take the benzo in order to keep my skin from crawling and stop the pacing. As a matter of fact, I had gotten the prescription but never filled it, until I realized I really needed it and quickly. These are definitely minor "attacks", if that is even the appropriate word, but the Xanax does help. Of course using it makes me anxious as well.

Where the hell has the come from? Partially is school. It is nearing the end of the semester and there are many projects and tests looming on the horizon. The other issue is diet. I am struggling with a considerable addiction to food and binging. These are crappy, primary coping mechanisms for my stress load. I am currently working to wean myself down to a lower caloric load. Explosion. This might be more stress than the brain can handle right now. Incredibly frustrating.

DFA, death from above, is a term from a video game when I was younger, and I feel like that describes my current circumstance. Something is bearing down on me and the second I stop focusing, or distracting myself with work, everything comes flooding in. Hopefully I can figure this out before it continues to get worse. Then again, I never was that great at figuring out my shit in time to be useful. Here's to hoping.

This post first appeared on Somehow Forward - My Struggle With Bipolar Depression And Suicide, please read the originial post: here

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Death From Above


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