Older white gentleman aside, I’m feeling pretty miserable too, and thinking over too many things at once.
- Extreme mood swings
- Fear of abandonment
- Unstable relationships
- Unclear or shifting self-image
- Impulsive, self-destructive behaviors
- Chronic feelings of emptiness
- Explosive Anger
- Feelings of suspicion or being out of touch with reality
I must remember these symptoms are not me. I am not my depression. I am not my social anxiety. I am not borderline personality disorder.
My illness does not define me, although it fuels my actions sometimes.
It plagues me though, and the reasonable side of me has few defenses against it. I am fighting tooth and nail a majority of the time. Each victory, however small, is a miracle.
I feel like I’m being suffocated from within somehow. It’s difficult to want to continue living like this. I have no reason or purpose that really propels me forward. Nothing in my life means enough.