Agoraphobia When Leaving Is Not An Option

Agoraphobia: Leaving Is Not An Option

Today seemed like the perfect day to incorporate an old post into a new one due to the fact that I am dealing with some heavy Agoraphobia (when leaving is not an option).

Here is what I wrote in July of 2013:

I did not leave the apartment today. The children and I stayed home because we were behind on laundry and organizing and because agoraphobia: leaving is not an option for Mommy.

It is not an unusual occurrence. We spent a good bulk of the day at my parents’ home on Sunday and then I did a lot of errands with all of the kids yesterday.

Two days out and about is my typical limit with the outdoor world.

I was supposed to start physical therapy today and I postponed it again.

The new med for the ADHD side of me has been great, but it hasn’t done anything with this little wave of depression that has been flowing over me for the last week. It doesn’t take a stand at the typical agoraphobia that is part of the usual undercurrents.

The idea of leaving home today brings on a huge wall of fear. It isn’t the same as a panic attack but more like a complete shut-down.

If I was somehow forced to go out by myself it would take at least a week to recover, but I am lucky that no one is making me leave.

So I can take my downtime as I do workbooks with the kids and play with the blog and by tomorrow I will be fine again.

Tomorrow I will take the children to Publix and maybe the next day to do something big like bowling or laser tag.

But not today though. Today is a day to stay home.

That was then.

Today is another “Agoraphobia: When Leaving Is Not An Option” day, but I don’t have the choice to stay home as I did back then. I have to find it somewhere inside me to clean myself up, get dressed, and do what I need to do for my children.

Tomorrow though… tomorrow I am going to have leave again, but it will be to find help. I will have to find some walk-in mental health clinic where I might have to sit for hours, but I don’t have a choice any longer. I cannot stop crying. My children don’t deserve to see me like this. My parents don’t deserve to have to worry about me like this, especially at this age.

AND I deserve better than this. I’ve come too far to sink this far into the Big Black Hole and not be able to find the smallest glimmer of light.

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