Well, the massive, constant panic attacks have abated, since I’ve been caught up on documentation all month (woohoo!) and have been trying to stay well. Of course, once I’m mentally doing better, that’s when my body decides to get in on the act and get horribly sick to match, so I was on the biggest antibiotics I’ve ever seen for a massive sinus infection AND UTI that decided to one-two suckerpunch me. I’ve finished my antibiotics course as of yesterday morning, and no longer feel dead, just sort of… blah.
My psychiatrist reminded me the other day that I am allowed to have fun, and enjoy myself. Life isn’t all about suffering. And my psychologist and I expanded on that in our last session, talking about letting myself make mistakes, and that being okay. I’m fine with other people making mistakes. I just can’t let myself do so without beating myself up about it for the rest of my life. I’m still working through guilt over accidentally stealing a classmate’s pencil sharpener in the second grade (we moved abruptly and mom cleaned out my desk at school, I wasn’t there and so couldn’t return it,) and about being the sky, awkward kid at a classmate’s birthday sleepover that was invited out of pity because I was the new girl who just fell flat on her face getting onto the bus and was crying, and who was quietly tolerated throughout, and borrowing money over the years (like, single dollar increments) and wondering if I can track those people down to give it back… so many stupid things to feel horribly, horribly guilty about.
I wonder if I could turn guilt into a full-time profession. I’m very good at feeling guilty.
I thought I saw my dad at an intersection today. I almost had a heart attack. I haven’t seen him in literally eleven years and I have no idea if he’s even alive. I doubt he’d recognize me, I look completely different. I don’t think he even knows what state I live in, much less what city. I’m unlisted. And yet, seeing the stranger begging for change on a corner who looked so much like my dad, I nearly panicked. I did slam on the brakes and probably startled the person behind me. I’m lucky I didn’t start an accident.
Work is better. Stressful, but better. The team is congealing more now, and we’re working better as a team, and we are having fewer pop-up crises. Now that I’m caught up on paperwork, it’s actually quite nice. Now if I could just stop getting sick and having to take unpaid days… I’ve been panicking today because I’ve had three short paychecks in a row and money is simply too tight to make ends meet comfortably, and I had to borrow money from my roommate for my car insurance and gas to get to work. I had a massive panic attack most of the day and of COURSE I was out of klonopin. Why would I remember to refill the bottle in my purse? That would be SILLY. (I tried the Ativan, btw, on my psychiatrist’s suggestion, and the first day, BAM, knocked on my ample white derriere so hard I was three hours late to work. The next time I took it? Nothing whatsoever. We opted to formally increase my Klonopin dose to 2x/day as needed, which she already knew I was doing periodically anyway and had okayed it previously, so she’s cool with it. I rarely need that much but it’s nice to have it when I do.)
My roommate continues to be patient with me about money issues, and I feel so horrible about *needing* her to be understanding. She knows I’m trying, and I haven’t bounced my account in some time, so I’m making some measure of progress. I just wish I wasn’t completely awful at managing money.
My brother is getting married in two weeks, and I was commissioned for the wedding jewelry. I’m nearly finished and looking forward to being able to do something else now. I’m always super excited about a new project until about halfway through, at which point I get bored and want to move on. Oh, well. I’ll finish soon, and be able to start on something else. Or ignore my craft area for a month or two. Either or.