A day in the life of benzodiazepine withdrawal.
Mental Health Mental Health

A day in the life of benzodiazepine withdrawal.

Lying there as the world spins, I am engulfed by a level of anxiety and fear I haven't experienced in a long time. Not only is my heart racing, breathing shallow, and chest as tight as ever, but I have this overwhelming sense of fear, although I'm not actually sure what of. Mentally, it is like I am in the first scene of a horror movie, unsure of what is about to unfold, on constant guard. Physically, It is like someone has plugged me into the wall socket and is slowly turning up the volts to see how much I can handle. I am at the point where my hair feels like it is being pulled from my skull by an unknown force, and every muscle in my body is twitching to a rhythm no one else can hear.

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A day in life at a private psychiatric hospital.
Mental Health Mental Health

A day in life at a private psychiatric hospital.

Here, among people that understand and nurses that see this every day, I don't have to pretend. I don't have to smile and put on a show to keep others happy. I don't have to ever say the words 'I'm fine' to prevent the looks of worry and pity that do nothing to help and everything to make me feel like a horrible human being for not being able to deal with life. I am able to make friends with the people here, laughing as we smoke and try to form circles with the smoke as we breathe out, then minutes later crying in the corner on my own without anyone batting an eyelid. That's normal here. Good even, it shows that somewhere inside me I'm feeling something. My friend sits beside me in silence then when I'm done whispers, 'I wish I could cry again'.

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A day in the life of dissociative disorder.
Mental Health Mental Health

A day in the life of dissociative disorder.

Sometimes though, it isn't. I'm not sure what happens to trigger this one, but suddenly I feel the rush that starts somewhere deep inside and envelops me like a wave you had your back to. As the emotion crashes in, I feel myself slipping away. I grasp my soft toy Ray and cover myself in the blanket, trying anything to stay attached to the moment and within the room. The only thing I remember after this, is a moment of lucidity in which I find myself sprinting down my street towards the local shops, wondering why I am running and what I am running from.

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