#seeing my psychiatrist wednesday and im hoping she will have an idea of what to do | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fanders-art · 6 years

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Better - chapter 1

Summary: Elle is a depressed 25 year old who doesn't see the hope and kindness on store for herself. This is the story on recovery

Trigger warnings: suicidal ideation, pessimistic thinking/negative self talk, depression (tell me if there's more please !)

Note- this is my first ever story, it might not be good but bear with me, i may know what im talking about, I know how depression feels. I wrote this to show theres always hope. You can get better and feel better even when it's hard and it is a constant fight. Without further ado, THE STORY!~

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"Anyways Elle, I have to go to my next class now so I'll call you later, bye"

My little sister, Anna, says sounding dissapointed, and hangs up the phone; I start wondering if she got bored with me and ended the call, or maybe she really didn't want to go to class. I sigh and turn over in my bed.

I had just woken up before the call, my body feeling like lead and my spirits were low, as if they were mourning the hole on my heart that yearned for comforting words, for happiness. Longing for love, fulfillment and support. Something to hold it all together. It's been there for quite some time now. I shake my head at the thought.

Go wash the dishes you useless adult.

I would, if my body didnt feel so heavy that it hurts.

I would if I had any reason to

Any motivation.

But there's none so what's the point?

I go to sleep again

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I wake up in my room feeling lighter than yesterday, but not completely light. I look at the date on my phone, it's Wednesday, 5:00pm. My eyes go wide, but my mouth forms a thin line. I slept through 2 days straight and I have to go to work. I jump from my bed. Once i get ready I grab my stuff from the table and run out the door.

The customers are rude again. I'm not surprised anymore, I call my manager and continue the sad routine of working in retail.

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It was normal day, long, but still normal. I was cooking pasta for dinner, something simple that i didn't need energy for.

Nothing significant happenned today, but i still find myself In my kitchen, tears dripping from my eyes, one by one, and sobs wrecking body, making me tremble. I was swaying back and forth, barely focusing on my pasta as my thoughts started consuming me.

You're useless. Absolutely pathetic. Nothing even happened and you're crying? Man, that's weak.

"Stop it, please" I cover my ears, more tears falling to the ground. The silence is deafening. The thoughts get louder.

How long have you been feeling this way? Years. Admit it, You're broken! We could make a list of all the rea-

"SHUT UP, DAMN IT!" I say to my own head. The tears are falling more quickly now, my sight becomes more of a blur. I'm used to it now; as I wipe some of my tears from my face I head to the bathroom.

I look at the mirror, letting the water run through my hands. My hair is up in a messy bun. My face swollen and red from all the crying, with tear tracks all over.

I lean down and wash my face.

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After I'm done preparing the pasta, I serve a small amount and store the rest inside the fridge.

Staring at my food, I start poking at it with my fork.

"I'm not hungry anymore."

I start eating.

After I finish, I figure I should wash the dishes while I'm still feeling productive.

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I leave work early today. My manager told me I was very unfocused and Spacey today and I kept making the same mistakes without noticing. More customers left, being angry at me and disrespectful to everybody else.

At my other job, one of my coworkers told me I seemed down. I barely recall them saying

"Hey Elle, take it easy. You're hanging your head and dragging your feet. Have you been sleeping okay? It's been at least three weeks since I saw you speaking to someone, let alone smiling."

I shake them off saying I was just stressed, but a couple of hours later my little sister told me I should see a psychiatrist. That I deserved better. I only listened to the first half, couldn't bring myself to believe the other.

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"And, that's how I ended up here talking with you, Mr. Cardoso."

I am sitting in a chair on a small office. Taking a brief look around the room, i notice there's and organized desk looking toward one of the walls, the chair at it s left. Behind it, on the opposite side, there were some cabinets displaying toys. I figure they're for the children that come to see him.

I turn to look at the man sitting at the desk as he talks to me.

"So what youre saying is, you have an idea of why these people told you to come here, but don't completely agree with it?"

I nod.

"I'm going to have you fill out a couple of papers to give you a proper diagnosis," he hands me a couple of papers and a pen. "Do tell me when you're finished or have any questions."

I look at the questions in front of me, laid out with the questions of the left and, on the right side, the words: never, a few times, sometimes, often and always. I begin answering the questions.

The questions below ask about anxiety and worrying.

In the last 6 months, have you experienced any of the following symptoms? If so, how often?

I felt that my worry was out of my control- often

I felt restless, agitated, frantic, or tense.- always

I had trouble sleeping - I could not fall or stay asleep, and/or didn't feel well-rested when I woke up.- always

I felt sick to my stomach, like I was going to throw up, or had diarrhea - sometimes

I felt dizzy, my head was spinning, or felt like I was going to faint - a few times

I was scared that I would lose control, go crazy, or die. -always

In the next set of questions, we will be asking whether you experienced a traumatic event, and how you reacted to it.

How did you experience the traumatic event?

Directly - I was a victim of a traumatic event.

I witnessed it in person (happening to someone else).

I learned about it happening to a close family member or friend.

I was exposed to it as a result of my job (e.g. paramedic, police officer, fire fighter etc.).

In all of these I notice I don't remember much of my past. I write an 'I don't know' on the side.

I was unable to feel happiness, contentment, joy, or love, or had trouble connecting with people.- agree

There were questions about my mood, emotions, behavior. Even some about drugs, a big no from me.

I finished the questions.

We moved on.

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When I get home I reflect on the appointment I had with the psychiatrist, Mr. Cardoso.

He said he would prefer if I saw a therapist at least once or twice a week, since I had nothing to lose, except for, well, pride, the walls you'd built, and time you could be working, you know, the usual, I said yes.

I look at the cellphone that's on my hands. After a few minutes, I dial the number to the psychiatric hospital. I hear the voice on the other line start spaeking.

"Hello, you have reached wellhealth hospital. How may I help you today?"

"Um" I hesitate. "Hello, I'd like to file an appointment with a therapist?"

"Do you have an insurance? Please give me your full name."

"I just applied for one and got the card. My full name is Elle Cook"

"Alright then. Would you prefer to come on next Monday at 10:30am or Wednesday 5:00pm?" The secretary said in a bored yet polite manner.

"Monday. 10 am. Who is the appointment with?"

"Your appointment is with Ms. Laura. Please come early to fill the necessary documents and show proof of your insurance."

"Will do. Thank you for your time. Have a nice day." After I hear their answer I hang up.

Sighing, I move from my comfy couch to my bathroom. I don't have enough energy for a skin care routine, so I just was my face and teeth, then change into my panda onesie and head to bed.

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Special thanks for @thelogicalloganipus @fangirltothefullest @sanders-trash-4ever @pornhubsvt And @asofterfan for helping me with this chapter/giving me feedback!!

Don't know when the next update will be

You are here | Chapter 2

#tw: depression #tw: suicidal ideation #story #my writing #first time #first story #not ts related #not ts #not sanders sides #first person narrative

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notafeeling · 7 years

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hey. this is gonna be a panic attack induced rant. you dont have to reply, i just want to get it out. i am fucking terrified right now. im trying to study for a midterm that is on wednesday (california time) but i cant fucking concentrate. for almost over a year now, ive been pretty sure i have add (attention deficit disorder). ive tried bringing it up to my mom but she doesnt believe that things liks add and adhd exist. seriously. we ran into a friend at the market the other day (pt1) - bigirl

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(pt 2/3) who has adhd and while we were walkkng away, she said that she was a little loose in the head. now i really want to tell my mom that i may have add, but she will just say that i am intelligent and smart and that my mind just aorks a bit quicker. yeah okay, that may be true. but that doesnt explain why the fuck in a conversation, when someone is talking, i can hear their voice amd see their lips moving but i have no idea what they are talking about. my mind can go through a (-bi girl)

(pt 3/3) chain of twenty thoughts in the span of two minutes then i will forget how i even got there. back to why im terrified. im terrified to even ask my mom if i could talk to a psychiatrist to even figure out if i have something because she pretty much ignored me the first two times. im just scared and i dont know what to do. /rant over - bi girl

i apologize for any typos in the three part message, i just needed to get it off my chest. im sorry for bothering you - bi girl

firstly, i want to assure you it’s entirely fine to rant to me. your situation sounds horrible and im so sorry you have to go through that. i, personally, am not educated enough on add to offer heaps of advice, but, if it’s like adhd, fidget toys might help? im not exactly sure if theyre allowed in midterms though.

i know parents arent always the best when it comes to mental disorders, but perhaps if you explained to your mother on what it is? maybe send her links to articles?

if there’s anything you know that helps you concentrate in the smallest of ways, then my best advice is to do that. worst comes to worst, is there another family member that could advise you in getting the help you need? if not, then finding other people who have ADD and asking them what helps is another strategy. obviously, what works for one person might not work for another, but it can give you an idea on where to start.

to calm you down a bit right now, i just found this masterpost (which contains mentions of suicidal thoughts/self harm, btw) that lists some coping mechanisms.

i hope this helps. once again, i am largely uneducated on ADD so im probably not the best, but if you need to rant, you can always come to me.

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