Adulting with a Mental Illness(es) (possible TW)
Trying to be a good adult is hard for anyone. Trying to adult with mental illnesses is damn near impossible. For me, it’s literally all I can do to keep myself alive, add on trying to work, pay bills and be responsible, it’s horrifying. I’ve missed my last 2 shifts because I was too depressed and kept having overwhelming panic attacks. Last night, I felt like I wanted to drink or cut. So I decided that since I had missed work, I needed a meeting. My dad, being the ass that he can be, said “Well, you’re just not able to go to work, but you can go to a meeting?” I cannot begin to tell you how much this pissed me off. (This was following his, “Why can’t you just make yourself go to work?”, comment) I love having money and being able to support myself, so don’t you think if I COULD, I WOULD?!
I appreciate all my parents having done for me. I moved back in with them in November, following 2 back-to-back psychiatric hospital stays. They told me that since I wasn’t able to work, they could help me financially….however, the catch was that I moved back in with them. (I had moved out 3 years prior, because I could no longer handle the constant fighting). Now I’m here, I’m feeling immense pressure to save and save fast. I’m isolating again. I could literally overdose and be dead before anyone even came near my room or thought to check on me. And that’s a scary, sad fucking thought. I feel like a burden. I feel so alone. I can’t do anything right. The self harming behaviors have dramatically increased. The other night, I sat on the floor covered in blood…wondering how I let it get this bad.
I’ve done everything I’m supposed to do. I go to therapy 2–3 times a week. I see my psychiatrist monthly. I take my medications every morning and every night. I’m going to meetings. I’m asking for help. I’m trying to work. I’m writing down things when I feel badly. I’m painting as a healthy coping mechanism. I DON’T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO!
My therapist said that she was right about thinking that my going back to work would be a bad idea. That she felt I needed long term residential treatment. I told my mom…and her reply was that if I couldn’t hold a job, maybe they should put me in a long term facility. And get rid of my car. So, I’d go to somewhere I’m totally un-fucking-familiar with. I wouldn’t be seeing my therapist (she’d probably fill my slot for when I did get out, she wouldn’t be the first.) I’d miss my sponsor (even though she irritates me at times), the people at my meetings. I’d get out of the facility, with no job. No car. No savings. No hope. With no car, means I’m trapped here indefinitely…till I get a job (which I need a car for) and save up some cash. I’d also miss my trip in March.
So basically, my adulting skills fucking suck. I’m really at a loss for what to do. Everything seems to be falling apart faster than I know how to handle.