I recently spent a couple days in a panic that I don’t think your body is supposed to be able to endure for that long. I was just lying in bed, literally writhing. I wasn’t perseverating, just experiencing physical symptoms of anxiety cranked up to a really high level.
Today they finally figured out medicine to make that better, so I woke up several times through the night feeling profoundly sad. I would dream I was somewhere normal and then wake up enough to see that I’m still in the hospital.
I described it to someone as “Now it’s just the overwhelming monotony of ‘Okay, I’m never going to be able to have a family or a fulfilling job and all of that is MY fault, how do I make at least some meaning for myself now?'”
Not having full-blown DID is nice. But it doesn’t mean I’m not going to be institutionalized.
I just want a hug so desperately.
