The Seemingly Endless Jouney

I've been writing this blog on and off over the course of the last several months. If you've read it before you're already aware that it has to do with mental illness and my own personal experience with it. Since November I've sought treatment, both inpatient and out, read, prayed, exercised, watched my diet, and of course  experimented with a myriad of medications.

My issues stem from anxiety and depression which are symptoms of obsessive-compulsive disorder. I was diagnosed over the winter with severe OCD.

I didn't need the diagnosis all too much as I was already aware based on my symptoms that OCD was the most likely candidate. However, having an official diagnosis may be beneficial down the road. 

Since a very young age I've always struggled with this but since last June it has been unmanageable and it continues to be unmanageable. The depression, anxiety, guilt, shame and feelings of low self-worth are simply put, overwhelming. 

The loss of interest in life itself is often the hardest to cope with. To go from being someone so passionate to being an individual that has little interest in anything and on most occasions finds it difficult to even leave the house is hard to comprehend.

I think the worst of it is the blame one puts on themselves when in this predicament. I continuously hold myself accountable for the fact that I am unambitious, continuously procrastinating, and on many days what one might consider downright lazy. This ironically is far from the overachiever I used to be.

As of late I find myself being just plain frustrated. The efforts, including the seeking of help that I have put into this do not seem to be reaping rewards of progress. As I find myself feeling defeated, I just keep reminding myself of the needs of my children, especially their need for their father. I do a pretty good job of "faking it" for them but it is exhausting. 

I spend a good share of my day questioning as to whether or not I am afflicted or just an utter failure, making excuses not to participate in life. 

These however are the realities for those that truly do suffer with some form of mental illness. The blame and shame accompanied by the guilt you put yourself through is the worst of it. I hope better days are ahead, I hope I once again can contribute and function like I once did but in a healthier fashion. 

I thought years ago that beating drug abuse and alcoholism was tough. That seems like a cakewalk in retrospect and in comparison but perhaps I have simply forgotten how tough it really was. With good fortune I can overcome this portion of my journey as well which is brutally unpleasant and learn from it in hopes that I can pass some coping skills and guidance along with hope to others down the road.