I can type a story as long as the history of time.
I have come to realise I am what you would call a *High Maintenance* partner, in a different sense to the first thing that comes to mind when you read that. I dont need expensive things or you to buy my love but what I do need can take more from you then the money out of your wallet.
Take a look around, we all know a person who seems like they have the weight of the world on their shoulders. The one who never smiles, the one who always seems on edge. Its not fun to be that person. Its exhausting.
I am so exhausted all the time, I go around in circles you see. The first time I was *diagnosed* with sever depression, anxiety and social phobias, I was all of about 13, of course when your that young in Australia the doctors always assume somethings happening at home that shouldnt be. Not the case in my sittuation. Just have her see a shrink, shes just acting out. Lasted about a year of deep dark thoughts, suicidal tendancies, the refusal to go out, not eating IM sure most can relate.
I came good again, guess you could say pretty much moved on with my life, a few years had pased and we went down the road of round two, this time came hurting myself and actualy trying to take my life. It just seemed to escalate from there. it got darker then the first time, and harder to keep breathing. to keep being was to keep suffering and i couldnt do it anymore.
I managed to get threw this with a very dear friend of mine who saved my life many of times, its such a shame I couldnt save hers. Time pases as it always does, and I begun to suffer more in silent, day to day life became bearable, I learnt to cry myself to sleep at night and be as *normal* as I could in the day. There were days I couldnt do it but those were the days Id just stay in bed. Noone knows what they cannot see.
This time round its worse, Its more then I have ever ever tried to survive.

My vision is blurred, my hands shake all the time, people look at me and think I have my shite together, I dont know how they get that Idea but then again when people look at you they are not really looking at you they are simply looking at your apperance.
People do not look at another person anymore to get to know them, most of the time people are only looking at us to judge us. Apperance means nothing to me, and no I am not overweight and ugly. I am just normal looking of normal build perhaps a slight on the chubby side, but of no means am I plus size (maybe to america as I am Australian)
Its like I am walking on razor blades threw a maze in my own mind. I am getting nowhere and the more I try to find my way the deeper it cuts me. I went back to my gp this time, and was again told to see the shrink. I moved on to a second oppinion at least this doctor could understand my frustration, seemed to care, who knows if she truly did but at least she was a good pretender if she didnt.
I still had to see the shrink, I still had to go to the appointments twice a week for 4 weeks then once a week for another 4 and then the doc again and we'd go from there. They gave me a clinical diagnoses of Severe Depression, Generalised Anxiety Disorder, PTSD, Social Phobias, Borderline *Schitzoprania* (yes i know i cant spell) and advised me to take it easy and continue with my sessions.
You see I have allergies, intense medicinal allergies that means I can not take any kind of medication from panadol to antibiodics to anesthetics and so on, I actualy die if i do. So this leaves me with nothing to take the edge off.
My support network was great and then I decided to move 800km away from my support network with my Husband.
And then I hit rock bottom. I can not see the way out of here. I can not go home because I do not want to fail, and my husband cant get work back home. I dont want to leave my husband but sometimes I want to shake the crap out of him and scream at him that I need his support. It is a constant battle for me to get up and go to work, but I do its because if I dont, it ends. everything will end the moment I stop putting one foot in front of the others.
I throw myself, my heart, my soul and all my time into my job to ensure I dont melt down between the hourse of 7am and 6pm and that gives me enought time to drive to work, work and then drive home.
I am not going to be able to fix this, I am beyond repair. This life is beyond repair. I can not see it geting any better, there is no light at the end of my tunnel because in the end all there is, is pain and more pain. Sooner or later the cance will kill my brother, after all he has already survived longer the susupected but you can see the colour drainging from him, his will power to fight is going and his desire to survive is failing him. And when he goes I fear he will take the rest of my light with him.

Nothing is ever going to be the same for me, Nothing will be as it was and I will always be fighting. I dont think I will ever win but for now I will just continue to do my best to tread water.