Ativan Thoughts

My mind is very soft and cloud shaped at the moment, and as such, is floating around on the breezes. Forgive me if none of this makes sense.

I found out recently when my disability hearing is set for, finally. It will have been nearly three years of waiting. Now, I am left with a small feeling of relief served next to a huge helping of "oh my fucking god, what's going to happen to me if..." I'm so scared of the future. I'm afraid I'm going to be denied and left to find a job, and I'm scared that, if that is the outcome, when I do find a job my anxiety disorders and BPD will make it nearly impossible for me to actually be there and do the job. My "issues" have gotten so much worse since the last time I held a job, and it was hard even then.

**time jump to next day**

Which brings me to another point. Rai and I were discussing this last night (or whatever you call the mess my ativan-addled mind spewed out). I recently had a conversation with my Aunt, in which I tried to explain to her WHY I'm persuing the disability thing. Contrary to what most think, the basis of my disability appeal isn't solely my neck problems, (though they are a part of it) I also have Bipolar Disorder and a few different breeds of anxiety issues that are lumped together in what my therapist just called "multiple anxiety disorders". And yes, a lot of people have anxiety disorders and are functional in society. Theirs are mild. To give you an example of mine, I was recently at a family gathering. Surrounded by people I love and who love me. I should've been comfortable there. Instead I was a wreck. My brain didn't want to focus, my heart was thundering, it felt like there was an elephant on my chest, I was nauseated, I was shaky to the point I had to make an excuse not to hold my best friend's newborn because I didn't trust myself to hold him in the state I was in. I was sweating profulsely. When I spoke, I messed up my words and stammered. All this when around people I'm "comfortable" with. Around people I'm not comfortable around, it's amplified a thousandfold. I tried to explain this to my Aunt, and she just didn't seem to get it. Said "oh, you poor baby!" and then went on to ask me about a job. She just doesn't get it. I don't think ANYONE can get it, unless they live it. I could take a normal person and strip them naked in front of a crowd of people and make them sing showtunes an octave off key and they still wouldn't feel the level of anxiety someone with a bad anxiety disorder feels on a regular basis. And that's not even mentioning the BPD, which causes me to have bouts of extreme hyperness/manic happiness/giddiness/top of the world feelings, bouts of deep in the deepest, darkest of holes depression in which my life seems completely pointless, I feel that everyone hates me, I honestly want to be dead. And then there is the hair-trigger anger, the frustration and anger with myself, the irrational anger at others. The periods of apathy in which I can't make myself feel anything, care about anything or anyone, myself included. And if all this isn't enough, we have the rapid-cycling days (or weeks) where I shoot from one to another to another in an hour's time, or a day's time. Some people say it's like riding a rollercoaster, but that's not entirely accurate. It's more like riding the tilt a whirl. You have the ups and downs but you also have the spinning out of control while going up and down.

So anyways, all of this, plus the constant neck pain/limited dexterity/mobility is why I'm persuing disability. Not because I want to be lazy and not work. Not because I want to rely on the government. Because I have valid reason. Because I am broken.