8:33- 8:47, Thursday.
Yesterday my parents found out about my anxiety and depression from a teacher after having an anxiety attack in P.E.
Tomorrow, at 8:30 am I'll be going to the school councillor. My parents will be calling BUP (barn och ungdomspsykiatrin, in English: child and youth psychiatry of Sweden) to get me a time there.
I'm anxious, and scared. I know this is supposed to be good for me, but why does it feel like I'd rather die?
Maybe I'll finally get help, after living like this in secret for almost 5 years (since I was 8). But I'm so good at pretending to be fine that I'm not sure how to let my guard down.
I'm used to helping people when they're sad, but I don't really have any experience of getting help. Any time I'm sad there's always someone who needs my help and comfort and if I tell them (yes I'm talking about a specific person, my girlfriend) so she'll just cry and tell me I don't care about her.
I can't cry, so when she cries there's always a teacher who wants to talk to her, but no one notices me being sad if I'm not actually having an anxiety attack.
If you haven't guessed it already I'm not really in love with my girlfriend, and I want to break up. But I also don't want to upset her.
Our relationship isn't good for me and I'm not sure I'm good for her either but she starts crying if I'm just not hanging out with her at the lunch break.
Sorry that the first chapter is so sad and down but it's an important part of my journey to getting better.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
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DiversosWell, I should probably have a trigger warning before we start: I will talk about anxiety, anxiety attacks, depression, dysphoria and self harm, maybe even suicide or suicidal toughs. Don't read this if you're triggered by any of those things. This...
