I think I've had this feeling, although not quite the same...I had several weeks of can't eat, can't sleep, constant washing machine stomach, nausea, and frequent bouts of physical jitters, I just didn't know what to do with myself, I would've done anything to get some relief, even just a few moments relief. It eventually all culminated with a therapy session, where I thrashed about wildly in the chair like I was physically fighting and struggling with something, (it actually makes me cry to recall this session) and my therapist asked me "what is happening? what do you need from me?" and I was too scared to tell her at first, I was too scared of what her answer might be, and that I might be taken from my children and admitted to a mental health unit... ...and I eventually managed to say through my tears, "I just need to know, I need you to tell me whether what I'm telling you in these sessions is 'really real'? Did these things really happen to me - or am I just so mentally ill that I'm just making it all up, and I'm too ill to see that"? And she fixed her eyes really firmly on mine, and spoke really softly and calmly, and sort of nodded as she said "...it's 'really real'"... ...and that was a big turning point for me, probably the biggest event of my whole recovery to date - it cemented my relationship with my therapist, and it allowed me to start to address my relationship with my mother, and to start moving forwards. I urge anyone who is in the throes of those feelings to try to stay with it, it was one of the hardest things I've ever seen through...but once you come out of the other side, it's so worthwhile!