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BoomStick

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I'm not entirely sure why I'm writing this, but who knows, maybe it'll do me some good to get it off my chest. Maybe it'll do me some good to read it back. Who knows?

 

Here we go -

 

I suffer from pretty bad anxiety. This comes from a rough childhood and a whole lot of other stuff that isn't entirely important right now. This anxiety usually manifests itself in the form of social anxiety, which I'm dealing with better. It was tough and go, but I got there. Mostly this causes a domino effect and I spiral down into a depression. I don't know if I actually suffer from depression or it is just an annoying byproduct of my anxiety, but that's not the issue.

 

Not many people know I suffer from it. Well, more know now, but not people I know and that know me. Heck, not even my parents know it, but I'm pretty sure they suspect it. Guess sometimes it's just hard to hide it.

 

As it stands right now in Ireland, having any form of a mental illness (whether it be depression, anxiety or anything else) is seen as taboo and discussing these things, particularly with men, is something that just isn't done. We laugh it off, bury it deep down and then ... go crazy.

 

My battery is about to die, so I'll finish this in the morning.

 

OK. Both my laptop and my batteries are now fully recharged, so where was I -

 

It's amazing the things I've seen like kids who were alcoholic by the age of 15, because they couldn't handle their everyday lives and they had nobody to talk to. It's a hard thing to be surrounded by things like that when you're growing up, especially in rural Ireland, where what would be a frequent sight would be middle aged-elderly men passed out at bar counters, just because they couldn't face going home, couldn't face that reality. I know that Ireland is not alone in these situations, but I'm only talking from experience.

 

Heck, even the mere mention of going to see a counselor/psychiatrist would get catcalls of "gay", or "stupid", or "weak". We are raised to be islands, to be alone, to never open up. And, as much as I am trying to change this, it is still the case.

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Thank you much.

 

For the most part I feel perfectly fine and appear perfectly fine. I remember when things were at their worst for me, about two years ago, I realized that I needed a break from work. So a few weeks before that Christmas I emailed my manager just telling her that I was going through an incredibly hard time and needed time off. She replied saying how she completely didn't know I was going through any of this as, on the surface, I appeared polite, professional and perfectly happy. Guess I began to realize I couldn't keep up the facade.

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