help

It is hard to ask for help. Hard to admit you need some. I do.

I can deal with melancholy and sadness. I can deal with the weirdness in sleep patterns, the pain. What gets me is the forgetfulness that plagues me lately. I’ve dealt with depression before, but never like this. I’m leaving doors unlocked, burners on the stove get turned down, but not off; I forget things I wanted to do, I forget where I’m going when I drive.

This scares me. It scares me way more than the anxiety I feel out in public or meeting new people.

I’ve thought about help, but it has to wait. Non-insured visits range from $100-150 per session from what I’ve found and once a month (or less) isn’t going to work for me. There may be other options, but with waiting lists of 4 months, they aren’t viable ones.

So, I vent here. I try very hard to not let myself get overwhelmed by my feelings.

4 thoughts on “help

  1. Oh, dear heart. 😦 I’m so sorry you’re dealing with this – it’s bloody terrifying. My memory went to crap last October when the depression hit: I thought I was losing my mind. I wish I had wise words of wisdom to share. Sending you much love.
    xoxo

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  2. Having to pay for help shouldn’t be allowed to happen: this is why I’m glad I have the NHS to fall back on. Therapy waiting times are up to 18 months, but you can see a crisis team if you go to hospital, which is better than nothing.

    If you can get the free counselling, take it, and I hope it works for you; nobody should feel like this.

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  3. I’m so sorry the help is so hard to get. That we have emergency rooms to deal with bleeding bodies and not emergency rooms to deal with equally problematic figuratively bleeding minds.

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