I have been meaning to make this letter for a while now, but I’ve had no idea how to express what I’m feeling in words, but I am ready now to give it a go.
I really want, need, to see someone at headspace *****. I know you keep saying that I need to give you reasons before seeing anyone, but I find it difficult to speak up about things, to explain my thoughts and feelings. So I am writing them down for you.
I stress, a lot. I understand that stressing is normal, but I stress, about everything and anything. Sometimes I am stressing and thinking so much it keeps me up at night, it disrupts my day. I’m tired all the time, and most of the time just want to be alone.
I am so self conscious, that I find it hard to go through the day without worrying about what I look like. I know, that whenever I bring this up to you you tell me not to worry, that it’s silly to worry and stress and get upset over something so simple, but those simple words don’t stop these self degrading thoughts eating away at me. Walking down the hall is even difficult, as if someone laughs around me my brain goes into overdrive thinking they were laughing at me.
I am anxious almost constantly, at school, home, out and about. I have always had my shy and nervous moments, but I feel this to be something else. I have always enjoyed acting, and talking in front of people, but, as strange as it may sound, I don’t like having people’s attention on me. My chest gets tight and my throat hurts, and I have to force the words out of my mouth. I often break down after as well, for reasons beyond me.
Some days, I feel that I could break down into tears over someone looking at me, and I often find myself on the floor of a bathroom stall in tears, because everything just becomes too much.
I am almost constantly sad, though I try not to show it. I try to hide it, and not make a big deal of it. I don’t want anyone seeing me as weak, or an attention seeker. Whenever anyone asks what’s wrong, I want to tell the truth, but I can never find the words, the right words. All I can get past my lips are the words, “I’m fine.” That’s a lie. I am not fine, I’m far from it.
Please *****, I need someone to help me through this, someone other than a school counsellor.
- Love, your daughter, ****.
OK, we had a lady who would come in once a week for about 5 hours to be with my MIL so we could run errands that took too long. (What ever that means!) But mostly it let us get a break.The lady quit, and MIL was HAPPY! Now we got a replacement and MIL is throwing a fit. As near as I can see it she sees things in a binary way. Good or bad. Productive or a burden. Loved or hated. ...
And I'm still broken.I'm 30 years old and I lost my mom when I was 15 due to an illness known as Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis. Recently, my 73 year old father has had some mishaps causing me great concern for his well being. He lives alone and now I have to intervene. Brief backstory, before the medical staff pulled the plug on my Mom 15 years ago, I made a promise to her that I would take care...