05-03-2021, 03:01 PM
Yo, I'm digging all this opening up going on here. Spame therapy... who knew?
Since we're hitting TMI levels (I, too, have hemorrhoids, but glad to report that since improving my health they're virtually non-existent now), I'll let you guys in on how I got to this point. Basically, I hit rock bottom emotionally. The absolute worst I ever felt in my life, to the point where I wanted to die... not out of suicidal depression, but as a mercy killing. Here's the deets:
Met a woman. We started hanging out and talking and clicked really well, and her being very attractive sent my heart on its natural course. The frequency of our time together increased, grew more comfortable... but I locked up. Locked myself the fuck up, couldn't defeat my own anxiety and tell her how I felt. Even if I got shot down, it should've been put out there. I was fucking. frozen.
Then I found out she was fucking some dude she works with. He's a total fuckin knob, but good looking enough where I can understand where she's coming from (no pun intended). All while her and I are hanging out nearly every day, but in her defense, she is single and unaware of my interest. My inaction led to these events, and the hurt inside was too much.... all the shit I've bottled up over the years, this was the very last thing that simply didn't fit. The bottle was full.
Subsequently, I lost my appetite the day I found out. Completely. Thinking about foods I regularly enjoy incited no appetitie within me, and I was subsisting on meal drinks, chewable multivitamins and more cigarettes than ever before. Occasionally, the starvation was overwhelming and I'd choke down something really light, but I went to bed starving and woke up starving. For 2 weeks straight. It started affecting my brain, my concentration was at goldfish levels, and I'd spend the first 8-10 hours of the day frozen in terror on my couch, distracting my pain with TV and my phone. Two fucking weeks of this shit.
On the final day of that hell, I was scrolling through TikTok (shut up i know im old) and came across a video: 5 Signs You Have High-Functioning Chronic Anxiety. All 5 signs struck a chord, but one of them was the epiphany moment -- "You bottle your feelings and don't express your true emotions to those around you." This. This is what was killing me, and it dawned on me that I have a severe anxiety condition. Being willing to do anything to break out of that tortuous hellscape, the next day I sacked up (after a full hour of picking up my phone and putting it back down) and texted her. Asked if we can meet up and talk. Then I told her everything, absolutely everything, from the video that enlightened me to my actual state to how I felt about her, and also that I know about her and that dude. The talk went incredibly well, I was very honest and she was receptive. I even said it's ok if she doesn't feel the same, just wanted to put the truth out there. I didn't shoot my shot, I laid down my gun. She was a class act about the whole thing, and we are still friends.
Within hours of meeting with her, I was HUNGRY. Ready to eat like a fucking savage. That first meal moved me to tears, it was so wonderful to eat food again. I knew now what had to be done: get help. Starting with helping myself. I researched the multiple symptoms of anxiety and starting working on reversing them. Anything that raises my heart rate, out. Stopped doing too much people pleasing. Balanced out my diet and looked into calming techniques, like deep breathing and Chamomile tea. All of these new additions to my repertoire were very successfully pushing me away from that awful feeling I was enduring for too long. The momentum is real, and I'm making more progress every day. I am RUNNING from that rock bottom that I hit, my "Under The Bridge" moment.
Tl;dr: it took hitting my lowest low before the positive changes could actualize. I've tried quitting smoking dozens of times, but only for the sake of quitting because I should. I didn't want to, I enjoy smoking, so those quits never stuck. It was insufficient motivation. So I hate to say it, but something may have to nearly break you before you truly commit to ending a bad habit. It worked for me, but I would never wish on even my worst enemy.
Since we're hitting TMI levels (I, too, have hemorrhoids, but glad to report that since improving my health they're virtually non-existent now), I'll let you guys in on how I got to this point. Basically, I hit rock bottom emotionally. The absolute worst I ever felt in my life, to the point where I wanted to die... not out of suicidal depression, but as a mercy killing. Here's the deets:
Met a woman. We started hanging out and talking and clicked really well, and her being very attractive sent my heart on its natural course. The frequency of our time together increased, grew more comfortable... but I locked up. Locked myself the fuck up, couldn't defeat my own anxiety and tell her how I felt. Even if I got shot down, it should've been put out there. I was fucking. frozen.
Then I found out she was fucking some dude she works with. He's a total fuckin knob, but good looking enough where I can understand where she's coming from (no pun intended). All while her and I are hanging out nearly every day, but in her defense, she is single and unaware of my interest. My inaction led to these events, and the hurt inside was too much.... all the shit I've bottled up over the years, this was the very last thing that simply didn't fit. The bottle was full.
Subsequently, I lost my appetite the day I found out. Completely. Thinking about foods I regularly enjoy incited no appetitie within me, and I was subsisting on meal drinks, chewable multivitamins and more cigarettes than ever before. Occasionally, the starvation was overwhelming and I'd choke down something really light, but I went to bed starving and woke up starving. For 2 weeks straight. It started affecting my brain, my concentration was at goldfish levels, and I'd spend the first 8-10 hours of the day frozen in terror on my couch, distracting my pain with TV and my phone. Two fucking weeks of this shit.
On the final day of that hell, I was scrolling through TikTok (shut up i know im old) and came across a video: 5 Signs You Have High-Functioning Chronic Anxiety. All 5 signs struck a chord, but one of them was the epiphany moment -- "You bottle your feelings and don't express your true emotions to those around you." This. This is what was killing me, and it dawned on me that I have a severe anxiety condition. Being willing to do anything to break out of that tortuous hellscape, the next day I sacked up (after a full hour of picking up my phone and putting it back down) and texted her. Asked if we can meet up and talk. Then I told her everything, absolutely everything, from the video that enlightened me to my actual state to how I felt about her, and also that I know about her and that dude. The talk went incredibly well, I was very honest and she was receptive. I even said it's ok if she doesn't feel the same, just wanted to put the truth out there. I didn't shoot my shot, I laid down my gun. She was a class act about the whole thing, and we are still friends.
Within hours of meeting with her, I was HUNGRY. Ready to eat like a fucking savage. That first meal moved me to tears, it was so wonderful to eat food again. I knew now what had to be done: get help. Starting with helping myself. I researched the multiple symptoms of anxiety and starting working on reversing them. Anything that raises my heart rate, out. Stopped doing too much people pleasing. Balanced out my diet and looked into calming techniques, like deep breathing and Chamomile tea. All of these new additions to my repertoire were very successfully pushing me away from that awful feeling I was enduring for too long. The momentum is real, and I'm making more progress every day. I am RUNNING from that rock bottom that I hit, my "Under The Bridge" moment.
Tl;dr: it took hitting my lowest low before the positive changes could actualize. I've tried quitting smoking dozens of times, but only for the sake of quitting because I should. I didn't want to, I enjoy smoking, so those quits never stuck. It was insufficient motivation. So I hate to say it, but something may have to nearly break you before you truly commit to ending a bad habit. It worked for me, but I would never wish on even my worst enemy.