Eldritch 
Let me start by giving you some background on my #mentslhealth
From the time I was 12 or so, I began suffering from a deep #depression and began hurting myself just to feel something other than empty, and that continued into my early 20s.
By the time I was about 14, I had figured out that I have #BipolarDisorder because I would go from being sullen and moody and crying a lot to cheerfully bouncing around the house and rearranging my room at 3am. I'm also a lifelong #insomniac so being up at that hour was normal for me. The difference was, during the depressive episodes, I'd sleep during the day and for a few hours in the early morning (usually 4-6am before school) and during the manic episodes I would only sleep when I had completely exhausted myself.
I couldn't talk to my parents. My dad was a #ChristianMinister and I'd overheard him telling someone that he believed mental illnesses were cause by demon possessions. My mother, one time after I'd been caught self-harming again, waited until my father left the room to use the bathroom, and looked me in the eye, and said, "What would people think of your father and i if they found out about this?" All my trust in her was gone in that instant. I was 14.
Every time I was caught hurting myself again, my parents opted to grill me for several hours instead of offering to take me to a #therapist or #psychiatrist The closest offer made was to talk to one of my dad's friends who was also a minister and a therapist. I didn't trust that at all, so I said no.
My bipolar disorder is depression dominant and during my depressive episodes I was very suicidal. I tried more than once but thankfully was never successful enough to even need to be hospitalized. Finally, when i was 21, I told my mother that if she didn't get me psychiatric help, I was going to go through with it. She called the GP the next morning, who prescribed me Prozac and didn't listen to me at all about my manic episodes.
I didn't actually get a psychiatrist and therapist until my late 20s, but I'm doing much better now. Within the last year, i switched to #Paxil because my former #antidepressant - #Cymbalta - had stopped working and I didn't notice until I'd fallen all the way back down the spiral. That's the problem with depression- it creeps in slowly and settles over you like a weighted blanket and you don't notice it until you're having an emotional breakdown because youre out of Cheezits.
That brings us to my #physicalhealth
In July of 2021, I became suddenly lightheaded on the stairs and fell, and I hit the cabinet on the landing with my face, bouncing my head off of it rather violently. I broke the part of my nose that's made of bone and deviated my septum pretty badly. I also split the skin open where I hit the cabinet and needed glue and tape to close it up. The scar is pretty nasty.
Ever since, my muscles have been tensing to the point of straining and trembling and nobody could tell me why. Massage seems to settle them down, but my neck and my stomach muscles won't stop. The only person who gave me a possible explanation was a #PhysicalTherapist who suggested it could be my muscles trying to guard against further injury, because sometimes your brain doesn't get the message that the trauma is over.
I've also developed #ChronicFatigueSyndrome since the fall. I can barely get up out of bed. Sleep gives me maybe 2-4 hours of energy, even a full night's sleep. I end up taking 2-3 naps a day.
On top of that, in June of this year, I had to sit in the car for two hours into and back out of #Anchorage and spend an hour sitting in my audiologist's office in between. By the end, my back was killing me. I have severe #DegenerativeDiscDisease and I already had two discs that were totally crushed and ready to pop. I'm still waiting to get an MRI, but I suspect both discs have herniated based on the pain I'm experiencing.
I can't be upright for long periods of time. Standing on something soft, like carpet, I can stay upright about five minutes. On a hard surface like the kitchen floor, it's closer to two minutes. In that time, I experience excruciating #LowerBackPain that feels like someone poking me with a white hot piece of metal, and it gets so bad that I become panicky. Sitting isn't quite as bad, but after about 10 or 15 minutes, the same pain starts up.
I'm basically completely bedridden now. The back injury has made me partially incontinent. I only get up to use the bathroom, and my partner has to bring me food and other things I need, because I can't bear to stand in the kitchen for even a few minutes to microwave some food.
Obviously, the depression and the physical health are intertwined now. The state of my physical health and the fact that there's no end in sight is depressing.