One More Time

Crazy is a word that I am terrified to be associated as. Yes, I have anxiety and depression but I always feel like people are calling me "that crazy lady" or "the psycho" and it really bothers me. There is a stigma attached to any mental illness whether it be severe or not, and to me that makes it even harder to deal with.

Today I went to the Woodburn Center, which is a government funded health facility, and got some help. I was prescribed some medication and am finally feeling some sort of relief because it's been bottling up for so long. What made me wait this long to get some help? I have no idea, but I'm getting it now and I'm hoping it will save what is left of me.

It's not that I want to kill myself because I don't. I just wouldn't mind if someone else did it for me, which I know, is not healthy at all. All of these relationship issues were just the straw that broke the camels back. Everything piled on top of me until I just couldn't stand the weight anymore, and that's what always happens. However, I've always been incredibly good at picking up all the pieces. So that's just what I'm going to do, one by one, one step at a time, I'm going to clean up the mess that has become my life, one more time.