9 posts shown.
Jamie Ward92 said:Look, the call is yours—it's your life—but if I were you? I’d head straight to the ER right now. Just go. Do whatever you have to do, even if you have to scrape together your last few bucks to make it happen.
Waiting until tomorrow might be an option, though I worry about it, mainly because I'm quite a shy person, so I'm honestly not sure how a conversation with a doctor is even going to go.
Jamie Ward92 said:Look, if you're living at home, just tell your parents what's going on right now. Seriously. Tell them you need help before tomorrow afternoon. This isn't something to mess around with—getting help will actually make a difference. If you aren't living with family, then look, just grab whatever cash you can, call an Uber, and get straight to the ER at Cleveland Clinic. Just walk in, tell them exactly what's happening, and let them handle it.
I am living with my mom and I did mention the issue to her, but she doesn't seem to be taking it very seriously; she seems to think it might just resolve itself on its own.
Jamie Ward92 said:Honestly? I'd actually suggest seeing a psychiatrist first. They can prescribe something to take the edge off—like anti-anxiety meds you take as needed—while you wait for the antipsychotics to kick in. Those usually take a few days to work; in my experience, it took about six. Once things stabilize, then you can start doing the talk therapy stuff. Just, seriously, don't let this thing take over your life. Tomorrow morning, as soon as you're up, go straight to your primary care doctor. Tell them it's an emergency and have them refer you to a psychologist or a psychiatrist immediately. They'll know which one you need to see right now.
My doctor isn't in until tomorrow afternoon, so I'll head over then and hopefully get a referral. I'm barely holding it together right now; I really need to clear my head and regain some sense of control.
Jamie Ward92 said:And how exactly are you planning to fix it?
I suppose I need an emergency session with a therapist by tomorrow morning at the latest, because I don't think I can handle another twenty-four hours on my own. I've completely stopped eating, I'm shaking, I can't stop crying... everything I look at just seems to remind me of death, and I'm feeling this overwhelming, indescribable terror whenever I find myself totally alone.
Jamie Ward92 said:Look, they want to help, that’s why they even call them "sedatives," trust me—it actually works. It worked for me, it's worked for millions of people out there. You aren't some special case, okay? Just get to the ER RIGHT NOW before you completely lose it.
I can't exactly make it to the emergency room in the middle of the night since I don't even have a way to get there, but I suppose I've already made up my mind to deal with this whole situation first thing tomorrow morning.
Jamie Ward92 said:Look, just get to the ER, man. Don't mess around with this. They have to have an on-call psychiatrist there who can at least get you some kind of sedative or something to calm you down.
I suppose I find it hard to believe that would actually help, because I feel like whatever happened is just permanently etched into my mind, and there isn't much way to undo that.
Unfortunately, things have taken an even darker turn for me lately, reaching a point where I can barely manage to function at all; I’ve almost entirely stopped eating, and I suppose I just don't have the words to truly describe what I'm going through right now.
Charles Long14 said:It is perfectly natural—given enough time—to find yourself contemplating mortality; eventually, it will come knocking
I really hope my father's final twenty-four hours feel more like ten years to me.
The last twenty-four hours have felt like I’ve been dropped into some kind of parallel universe. I’m gripped by this overwhelming fear of death that I just can't seem to shake, no matter how hard I try to snap out of it. It feels like everything I look at serves as a reminder of mortality. It all started about a day ago when the thought just drifted into my mind, and since then, it hasn't left me; it’s just a constant, haunting presence. I suppose I could say July 5, 2016, was easily the worst day of my life. On top of the mental strain, there’s this persistent, nauseating sensation in my stomach that makes me feel like I’m constantly on the verge of being sick. Because of that, I haven't been able to eat anything, as the mere sight of food makes me feel incredibly repulsed. I was wondering if maybe seeing a psychologist might help resolve this, because I’m fairly certain I won't be able to move past this on my own. My mind keeps flooding with these vivid images tied to death, and if this continues for even a few more days, I honestly think I might lose my mind completely. I would really appreciate any advice you all might have.