Before I ever experienced mental illness, it was hard to believe that bad things happen for a reason. My struggles have changed that, and today I want to write about how that has happened.
When I got woken up last night by the noise downstairs,all my worries and stress came flooding into my mind and so the chance of sleep all but disappeared. As I lay awake in a panicked, depressed state, crying my eyes out and feeling like my whole existence is pointless, I remembered how much it sucked when I used to have panic attacks everyday. Obviously though, I woke up feeling like utter crap this morning. The deep sadness of depression took over and I couldn’t stop myself from hyperventilating with fear.
I literally had no idea what to do with myself. I felt like a waste of space that nobody cares about and that I couldn’t handle it.
We have this lady at college who deals with all the first aid, welfare, fitness etc, and she knows about my eating disorder, anxiety and therapy situation. Out of despair I found myself knocking on her door today, and I am unbelievably glad that I did, because after blurting out my frustration and sadness she suddenly said “but that’s brilliant.” (Yeah , I was confused at first too!) “You can’t remember what it feels like to have panic attacks like last night all the time, which means you don’t have them much, which in turn means you ARE getting better!”
I was in a far too negative place to even see that, but it is true, I can confidently say that I am in recovery for my anxiety and I am making progress. The best part was that she then asked about my eating habits separately, reminding me that (although they are connected) they are 2 different problems.
And so the silver lining to the horrendous night/day is this:
I can be proud that my anxiety is getting better WITHOUT the guilt of “giving up” my ed. I know I shouldn’t want to hold on to my ed, but I have finally managed to separate the two and be happy with myself for the achievements I make with the anxiety.