For Four Weeks

So my time off has been approved. I’ll be off from work for four weeks. My panic attacks are trying to creep up on me much more often. I’m battling trying to keep my breathing under control now. It hasn’t blown up to a full force storm but I can feel the electricity coursing through my fingers while I use their jittery muscles to type these words.

I’m really not confident in my choice to take this leave of absence from work. If I hadn’t already jumped through the necessary hoops to get it all set up, I may have cancelled at least a dozen times by now. I just feel like I’m taking a leave of absence from the one last place that I have my shit together. I’ve been distracted & I’ve been taking extra breaks but I’m damn good at what I do. I’ve never missed a deadline. My team still looks to me for guidance. My manager still recognizes that I lead my group well. It doesn’t help that I have to pack all my desk stuff into a box before I leave tonight. There might be some cubicle shuffling while I’m out so my manager asked me to put my stuff in a box to make the move easier if it does happen. It just feels like I’m leaving my one last sanctuary of sanity . . . for good.

There’s a horrible hopelessness that keeps gnawing at me, telling me that I’m not gonna get better. My insides are whispering that I really am leaving for good because I’m just gonna continue to spiral further & further out of control. These four weeks are gonna turn into six weeks, then a few months, then years.

I’m scheduled to start the IOP program September 9th. I need to call Josh & let him know that I was able to take the time off of work earlier than I thought. I’ve been meaning to call him since I got my approval on Wednesday but I still haven’t. I don’t know why but I’m aware that I’m avoiding it. I did call a few minutes ago but the message center was closed & I have to call back before noon tomorrow. There’s a crisis line but I don’t think this is a crisis. I hope I pull my shit together & call before noon tomorrow but I’ll be surprised if I do anything before noon tomorrow.

Everything just feels so wrong right now. I can’t seem to come up with anything positive going on in my life. My son is upset with me. My husband is always upset with me. I’m separating myself from both my dramatic parents & my baby Sister is annoyed with me for avoiding her. How did I end up in this downward spiral? I just don’t understand it. I’ve been through so much more than I’m dealing with now. I survived it. I overcame it. I pulled through successfully so what the fuck is going on with me now?

My husband is one of the only voices that continually talks at me about all of this. He has theorized so many things. He thinks, it’s empty nest syndrome & I should just get over it. He thinks, it’s bad body image & I should start working out. He thinks, it’s boredom & I should go back to school. He thinks, it’s stress from work & I should just learn to let it go. I don’t know what it is. All I know is that I’m falling a part at the seams. I’m unraveling more & more every day.

I’m still not taking the medications. It’s probably pretty obvious. I want to start the Intensive therapy program before I start popping the pills. Since I’ve never tried therapy, I don’t know how much it’s gonna help. I’m hoping therapy helps so much that I won’t need the pills but hope in one hand & shit in the other. Right? 

I know I should’ve taken a Xanax the other morning. I came completely undone because there was a spider in the shower. I don’t even have a fear of spiders, none whatsoever. Now, granted this spider was big, hairy & an ugly looking thing but it was nowhere near terrifying. I didn’t have anything nearby to squish him with. I walked out of the bathroom to get a shoe & when I came back the creepy little thing completely disappeared. That’s when the panic triggered. I didn’t want to touch the shower curtain because I was terrified he’d jump out at me. It’s giggle worthy when I write it or say it out loud now. Of course, that morning the whole situation crumbled me into a sobbing mess. I thought about taking a Xanax but I couldn’t get myself to take a Xanax because of a stupid, fucking spider. 

I couldn’t get in the shower. I washed up in the sink with a plug in the drain just in case the damn spider crawled out of the drain while I had my eyes closed as I washed my face. I took my socks off so that I would feel him right away if he decided to crawl up my leg. I took my robe off because it was too bulky & long & he could crawl up that without me knowing. It’s ridiculous. It’s complete & utter nonsense but I couldn’t get it together. It took me a good 20 minutes before I even deemed that I had the nerve to wash up in the bathroom. At first, I actually considered washing up in the kitchen sink. Anyway, eventually I took a quick bird bath in the bathroom sink & went off to work with a little dab of perfume. Be Delicious, indeed!

I’m glad to report that my fear subsided & I was fully capable of taking a shower as soon as I got home from work. I’m just so worried about all these episodes. It just keeps getting more & more frequent. It also seems to be getting more & more nonsensical. I’m actually wondering if it could be some weird kind of Alzheimer’s because I just don’t recognize myself anymore. I’m smarter than this. I’m better than this. I’m supposed to be so much more stable than this. Even my husband said as much, he said that he’s never really had to deal with emotional instability from me. He doesn’t understand who I’m becoming. The scariest thing is neither do I.

I’m gonna try to write here more. Although, I am very uncomfortable writing from home so I can’t guarantee it. I just think that I should keep all these steps documented. It helps me organize the chaos a little. I may even write a bit about the therapy sessions once I start them. We’ll see. I gotta get going now. I do read other people’s diaries a lot. Feel free to write often, now that I’ll have plenty of time to keep up.

Be well everyone!