Just Get Over It

"Just get over it" is a sentence that I hear a lot, more so in the past but people still say it from time to time. See, I have been in a constant battle with anxiety and depression my entire life, but it escalated when I had someone very close to me pass away. Even after telling people that I have anxiety and depression and explaining that I cannot just "get over it," they still do not seem to understand.

About six months ago, I actually relocated because of my anxiety and depression. I moved five hours away from my home town, where my very few friends, my mother and her husband, few family members, and my ex all lived. I had just graduated from college and received my diploma in search for a job to start my career when my boyfriend, who has made my life hell for five years, decided to up and leave me. I loved him and I was crushed — so crushed that I was determined to get out and start a new life where I knew no one.

I applied to jobs all over the country. Finally, I got a call for an interview. Naturally, I was nervous, and then anxiety kicked in and I could not breathe. Thankfully, it was a phone interview and the person on the other end could not feel my sweating palms as we met or see the tears start forming because I was shaking like a little chihuahua. My voice did not compensate my nervousness, but the two ladies on the phone were understanding and actually compassionate towards me when I would stutter or get confused with answering questions.

In the end, I laded the job, five hours away from home. I packed everything up and moved to a tiny little community where I knew no one. For someone with anxiety, this was terrifying. I was placed in a sort of boarding house, which I shared with all males older than me. Thankfully, there was a bathroom in my room, because I could not leave unless I was going to work, and even then I would make sure that no one was home when I exited my room.

It is funny to look back on that now, because I am really good friends with some of the people living in that house and on days like today I wished I still lived there so that I wouldn't have to be alone with my depression.

The past five days, I have not left my bed. I have gotten up to change my underwear and shirt and to get some snacks (no actual meals) and I showered once. It is like my bed is holding me hostage. I tried to speak to one of my friends about it because she has not seen me in days and claimed that she missed me, but once I told her that my depression was holding me hostage and it felt like there was a dark feeling of doom I could not shake, she told me to "Give it up and get over it." Encouraging, I know.

It is always a circle, and I cannot escape. Running away and starting over did not solve any problems. It was only a small little vacation. This dark cloud of doom always finds me no matter where I go. I would LOVE to just get over it, I really would, but I physically cannot and now not only is it doing more mental damage, it is affecting me physically. My back is in spasms because of my depression, the knots are just getting tighter and tighter, I am not leaving my bed and that is making it worse. I will not go to the doctor and get a referral for massage because of my anxiety. I am to the point where I have given up. I am still taking my medication, until I run out, then I have to up my dosage. This gradually increasing the dose is making me mad, but I do understand why I have to do this.

It is going to be okay... one day.