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Life of V

The journey from being broken to being queen

Month

June 2017

Sorting the laundry

Living with an anxiety disorder is an exhausting existence. There’s an active volcano in my brain that could erupt at any moment, causing devastation and a meltdown in the middle of the grocery aisle. It’s been happening more often in recent weeks and quite frankly, I am dead tired in trying to figure out how to keep up with it. Treatments have side effects and add that on top of already feeling like you’re about to fall off your plane of existence into oblivion… and well, it makes it incredibly difficult to get up the energy to do anything. My new medication is affecting my balance, so now I’m stumbling and falling a lot, which makes me look like I’m intoxicated. I then have anxious feelings about whether or not anyone thinks I am drunk at work, and I worry about that… and the snowball effect has begun. I have a worst case scenario mindset and my brain just runs with that. Nothing else… not like using logic to, I dunno, communicate with your fellow humans or not jump to the worst conclusion I could come up with for what other people are going to think about me…. yeah. Stuff like that. I know I’m rambling right now, but this is kind of therapeutic right now, and who knows, it might help me tighten a few of the screws I have loose.

So, I’m stumbling, and off balance. The doctor says it is one of the more common side effects of the new medication I am trying. So, we’re going to see if it sorts itself out in a week or so and if it doesn’t, we will try something else. Cool. It is a pain in the ass to be dizzy and off balance, like I’m on a boat and I haven’t got my sea legs yet. I am in week two of the most anxious and on edge I have felt in months, and like most people who deal with anxiety and panic, there’s nothing specific to pinpoint why it’s happening. I’d been on the same medication for months, things were status quo at my job, homelife was average with no blips on the radar, and then…. BAM. It was like a nuclear meltdown. Everything instantly seemed to be vapourised to ashes. Afraid of everything from being outside, to being around people in such a “fragile” state. Afraid of being by myself and afraid of being with someone. Horrified by my own thoughts, mostly thoughts of failure and worthlessness and the feeling of this weight in my muscles and bones, I ached like I haven’t ached in months.

Pardon my fran├žais, but it knocked me the fuck OUT. I feel like I fell flat on my face after tripping over my own feet. You know that saying, the only person in your way is you? Boy, ain’t it the truth? I keep realizing each time these brick walls smash me in the face, it’s me that’s built the brick wall. Something in my mind won’t let me rest. Keeps pressuring me to do more, be more, and flawlessly of course, because if I don’t look like I’ve been doing this my whole life and have every single duck in a row, I am a failure as a human being and am therefore a waste of time and energy. How’s that for being hard on yourself? Seriously, I am so fucking done with thinking this way. You’re killin’ me Smalls.

I really need to sort my shit out. I am so tired of living with so much doom and gloom in my head. I am so tired of just existing, and not living! I know I’m going to need help. And it’s going to be hard for me to ask for help. I’ve taken a first step and gone to the doctor. We talked for awhile and I described how I was feeling, and with Chad by my side, basically spilled my guts about how shitty I was feeling. I think I even swore a few times. Blood tests, new medication trial, and I’m being referred to a psychiatrist. Ze ball iz rollin’. I also got some breathing exercises, and was encouraged to continue my journal, because he said it truly can help sort out your thoughts and make a plan for the future.

 

So here we are.

 

I guess I’ve been airing my dirty laundry… time to sort, I guess? (Who am I kidding, I wash everything on cold and hope for the best… except my bras… those bitches are expensive)

 

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The Other Shoe

Ya know how just a few days ago, I wrote about how things were starting to come up Vicky? Well, I spoke a little soon. Not really, but that’s how it feels today.

Two days ago, I had a massive panic attack when I went to Kent Home Supplies to buy ant traps. Absolutely nothing happened. I walked in, grabbed a box of traps, paid, and walked out. Pleasant transaction with the cashier, found it easily in the store, nothing loud or franticly busy, nothing out of the ordinary. Then in the parking lot, I started sobbing as if someone punched me in the face. I sat in my car and cried and screamed until my throat was sore and I ran out of tears. My heart was pounding so hard against my ribcage, my eyeballs were rattling around in their sockets and I had trouble focusing.

Then I went to work… yep. As soon as I walked in, one of my coworkers took a look at me and immediately knew there was something wrong. With barely a word, he understood what was going on, and sprung into action, getting things at work in order while I backed off and got my head together. He sensed it was pretty jarring, because he called in people to cover my shifts for the rest of the weekend. My team is holding down the fort while I figure my shit out and get back on my path. People in Charlottetown, PEI are working with the team here to balance the operations at work so I can take a moment. How did my life get so blessed that when I kinda mentally fall overboard, I have a crew of people spanning two provinces who are actively helping me get back on the ship?

So here I am, overboard… kinda flailing… literally actually, I’m very twitchy and nervous today. The slightest sound makes my muscles spasm and I’m jumpy. I’ve got a massive headache, all my muscles are tense and sore, I can hardly focus on anything (this post is taking foreverrrrrr to get the words all out). But it’s helping.

I don’t know what triggers my panic attacks. It’s frustrating as all hell. I went to the doctor to talk to him about how I was feeling. Chad went with me. I spilled everything that was on my mind and what was worrying me about my body and my mind. Dr. G is a kind and patient man, bless him, and he listened to all my worries, even the ones I had a hard time putting into words. He’s started me on a new medication to see if it helps my anxiety attacks, and he’s also getting me to have some bloodwork done, and we’re testing for literally everything under the sun. So many boxes are ticked on that paper.

He’s also referring my to a psychiatrist. Until then, he’s given me some breathing exercises to try (including some youtube links! yay!).

I am thankful that I have a little time to rest after my panic episode. It frustrates me when I am not productive and energetic and on the ball. I know that’s how a lot of people feel, but I also never seem to give myself a break. I always feel the need to be working or else I’m not of any value to anyone. If I’m not at work, I’m usually working on something for work, and it’s because like any decent human being, I want to see the business do well, and I seem to forget that it doesn’t fall solely on my shoulders. That also frustrates me. I get so tunnel visioned into my own rhythm that I forget there are people around me who are going “hey… you know I’m here too, right? I can do some of this! LET ME DO SOME OF THIS. I like doing some of this.” (Come to think of it… one of the girls at work may have said these exact words to me at some point) *lightbulb moment* Okay, okay, not a lightbulb moment, I’ve actually been working on that for a while now, and I feel like I’m getting better at it. I’ve got to stop putting so much pressure on my brain. It’s gonna be the end of me. It frustrates me when I get in these ruts. A lot of things frustrate me. Notice that?

Oh what I wouldn’t give to feel normal and relaxed and… balanced. It never really goes away. I wish I had the answers… I’m not as good an actress as I used to be.

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