Sometimes, I’ll just be laying in bed, sitting on the train or walking from college to the train station with my friend M, when the following happens. It hits me, without warning. My heart starts to pound, my breathing rasps and my body feels like it’s no longer mine. I find myself asking “Why now?” or “Really now? Just when things were looking up?“
This is how for me, a down spot usually starts. Completely without warning or reason, one brief moment of panic tips me over the edge, and my mind shuts down and refuses to let me leave the house the next day.
When it’s spontaneous like this, there’s no way of telling people. After or during the down spot I nearly always hear from either a staff member at college, a friend or family member: “Why didn’t you say something?” “Because it hit me just as randomly as it hit you,” I think, but I always reply “I don’t know.”
I find it hard to explain because in times like this, my coping mechanism is huddling under my duvet and watching films or listening to music. But there are people out there who don’t deem that acceptable because our world isn’t engineered around the ones who cope by no longer “functioning.”