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So I actually made this last night when I finally talked myself into going one level deeper on my Social Media Vulnerability Meter by posting truth about what I've been going through & why I've been MIA.
And then I couldn't post it. Because Instagram kept giving me errors. Like, over and over and over. About 619,648 of them.
Which naturally led to something I'm pretty sure I've known was coming even though I could've never anticipated how bad it'd be: a 45-minute anxiety attack. One that, for several different reasons, I thought might actually kill me.
No, not anxiety over the video.
Not over Instagram.
Not over anything that had to do with the moment in any way.
Just simply the build up from the last few weeks and ...well, exhaustion.
Like the way toddlers throw tantrums when they're tired, except my tantrum came with hyperventilation, choking on my own snot, the fetal position on the bathroom floor, realizing I didn't know if I could trust myself & therefore frantically trying to find someone from my Trusted List to answer their phone for help before I called 911 or a crisis line.
I was talked down, reminded that later I can cry but first I have to breathe, walked through said breathing exercises and self care & followed up with until I was safely in bed and falling asleep.
And now I've gone through today with the swollen eyes & headache that remind me that (even though I'm feeling fear of judgment with this one) I still need to post it.
In case someone else needs it.
In case someone else is tired.
In case someone else is fed up.
In case someone else is angry & frustrated & feeling like they're one Instagram error away from going batshit.
You're allowed. Counselor/therapist/social worker lady knows her shit. I promise.
@wildfirewritten, thank you from the bottomest bottom of my heart.
#realrecovery #mystoryisntover #mentalhealth