Well you don't look sick

I could not believe it when she said that. Four words that shattered my belief that I was better. "You don't look sick."

I know stick and stones may break my bones but words will never will as they always say but people often forget that words have a power to destroy emotions and mental states worst than some physical hurts.

I have major depressive episodes and social anxiety that paralyzed me from having a normal life. I could not leave my house and stopped working. I am a shut in who sleeps 16 hours a day, eat once a day just to force myself to get nourishment and have trouble remembering what day it is because everything is a blur.

There came to a point that I just did not want to get out of bed and merely stare at the ceiling.

I had good days that I don't hear the whispers that I should take my life and that I am a failure. Then there are days that I look at bottles of cleaning fluids and acids. I don't self harm by cutting through because I have a very low pain threshold. I tried but just couldn't get myself to cut which I take as a good thing.

Anyhow this month I decided I wanted to take a step in normalizing my life. I shaved, I haven't gotten a haircut but I wanted to set some things in order.

I needed to get some documents and I contacted this lady who was the only authorized person. It went back and forth and a number of times I thought just fuck it. Yet there was a tiny voice telling me to persevere and keep trying.

Finally I was able to meet with her and everything went south. She was condescending and arrogant as if I owe her money. She belittles me and make me feel stupid for misunderstanding some things. She was not cooperative and dismissive to the points that I was trying to address.

Then came those words. "You don't look sick." So having anxiety and depression means I should look a certain way? Do I need a tag saying I have these disorders.

I could see the judgement in her eyes and another round of painful words "You were able to go here so it doesn't look anything is wrong with you."

Man I wanted to slap the shit out of her. I asked her so are you dismissing my depression and anxiety? Are you dismissing the suffering I have and huge step I had to take to go outside my house when everything in my body and mind was screaming not to leave.

She snorted and told me everyone gets depressed and so you just couldn't handle yours. I admit I couldn't that is why I am in this predicament. This is why I couldn't go out of my house. How dare she make it not a big deal.

Her words shredded whatever strength I mustered up. I wanted to hurt her physically but I also wanted to leave that instant.

I was in pain and I wanted to lash out but I was also so tired.

I left that meeting feeling sorry for myself. I got home and those bottles looked mighty tempting again.

I knew it was bad. I called a crisis hotline and this sweet lady named Jasmine was able to talk me down from a 9 in wanting to harm myself. We talked for over an hour. As she gave me positive reinforcement and understanding.

I placed the phone down and it seemed that tonight wasn't going to be that night. Yet I still feel some pain. My heart still hurts everytime I remember her face, the sneer and the words that almost broke me.

I know I shouldn't give her power over me but nothing makes sense to me right now.

Sometimes I still think the void maybe better.