These words have something in common (besides relative definition). Can you guess what they are? They are all words used to describe someone who needs help but refuses to get it. I know. I was there.
Years ago, I was called each and every one of these words by those who care about me because they could see that something wasn't quite right and I needed help. Granted, I sought therapy on my own, but medications were a whole other story.
I was dead set convinced that I could handle this on my own; that God would get me through the hard times. My faith helped, but it only got me so far. Whenever people would suggest medication to me, I said I'd think about it just to placate them. I wanted nothing to do with meds. I didn't want the stigma. I didn't want people to look at me as weak.
For quite a while, I was combative, rude to my family, and thought that, not only could I do this without meds, but that I knew better than everyone. For years, I'd have breakdowns that tore me down so far that I was tearing others down with me. I would fight with family and friends just because they got on my nerves. I had exactly zero tolerance.
The big realisation came when I overdosed on pain killers. That's the point where I admitted to myself that I needed the help of therapy along with medication.
I tell you this because I don't want you to have to learn the hard way that I did. I don't want you to wind up in the hospital, hooked up to machines with a tube up your nose with a charcoal drip going down your throat. Don't make your loved ones see you that way.
If you find it difficult to get along with people, are having breakdowns frequently, or feel like you can't control things, I beg you, get medication.
There's a lot more tolerance toward mental health than there used to be. The people who love you will not think you are weak. In fact, it takes more strength to admit you need help than it does to deal with it alone.
If you still can't do it for yourself, do it for your family and friends. They deserve the best version of you.