Comfortably Familiar
Another day. Lately every day is simply that. Another day. They continue. Over and over in this chaotic world.
My anxiety has been awful. Miserable. Thank god for sleep. I live for sleep. Really, thank God for meds. Am I depressed orrrr are the meds working THAT good? Probably a mixture of both. Kayli – The mental health med dog – put me on Klonopin for anxiety and sleep when I was losing my shit. Was I REALLY losing it? Yeah. Probably. If you want to be honest. Then when the migraines got to be too frequent I agreed to the Topamax from Nena. So, I went from 0 good meds at night and majorly self-medicating to a decent amount of medications at night – both of which can be used for seizure and they basically make me just fall asleep. It’s amazing. So, I sleep. All night. But the daytime anxiety is freaking miserable.
Why? How do I fix it? It was most recently said that those who stay busy are often running from trauma and that is why. That by accepting idle time and fixing the anxiety you must also address past trauma. Where the fuck do you start with that? It’s semi right. As I let my mind attempt to acknowledge something is real, visualize it, accept it and then put it away I picture some pretty awful shit I haven’t thought of in years. Yeah. Maybe I need to do this with an outside therapist and not be my own therapist. Maybe.
Add in a client that absolutely sucks. I don’t say that about many people. But this chick is like a whole new level of a shitty person. When her life implodes because of her shitty choices she just focuses on blaming others and ruining lives. I’ve literally saw her blame coworkers and bosses at every job she’s had (5 in 18 months) getting 2 fired, doctors, adoption workers, daycare employees, preschool employees, public assistance employees, the fathers of her children, cousins, friends, landlords. You name it. It’s pure chaos. Her worlds imploding. She’s filed complaints against too many people lately – Now she’s evicted, fighting for custody of her baby, CPS issues, in a fight with daycare, etc. So it’s my fault. For real. I don’t even know why. Like my supervisor said she honestly can’t tell me because chick talks in circles and just keeps saying everyone is out to get her and we are all working together. For real. Typing that it actually sounds like she’s got a real mental illness. Anyways so now she’s complaining I’m in the awful group. (She also says the last town she loved the Paparazzi follows her. I promise. They didn’t.) My supervisor said it’s fine, she’s crazy and not to even worry about it. But it makes me crazy anyways. I’m damn good at what I do. I hate that she’s lying about me and I really can’t do anything. Ugh. I’m sure she won’t be the last considering the population I serve and the high level of mental illness, etc. It’s just frustrating. So, she definitely adds to my anxiety but it was there before her and it’ll be there after she’s just a bad dream.
Currently, I’m quarantined for contact with a positive person. So – I can’t leave the house. Can’t be within 6 feet of anyone. I can go to my own yard. She said I could walk the neighborhood or go hiking at the state park but that’s too much for my messed up foot. Honestly, anyone I’ve talked to complains about how awful it was. Me – I love it. I was born for this. This is my element. Just me. The dogs. Cleaning. Organizing. Sitting here. Staring into space. I’m still working from home. But that’s my extent of human contact. I order groceries online which I’ve been doing for awhile anyways. I love it. My mom called today and asked if I’m sick of it – No, it’s amazing. She said I was insane. Today the husband was like dude you really don’t care you can’t leave? Do you want to ride with me and sit in the truck? Nope. No thanks. So you’re just going to sit here and look out the window. Ummmm, yeah?
I reminded him of the awful time we lived in Pennsylvania. I never left the house. I had no friends. Nowhere to go. The kids walked to/from school. It was fine. I reminded him of my year in Wyoming before him. I spent weeks alone in an apartment with my 1 year old, no cable, no phone, just internet and a desktop computer, and dvds. Never leaving the house except for doctor appointments or the grocery store. This is normal. It’s okay. It’s fine. He looked at me like I was crazy.
Maybe I too am crazy? Am I letting this cause me into backsliding into something I once was and had outgrown? I don’t know. Maybe. I like it here. I truly do. I don’t miss people. Sadly, the ONLY thing I miss is the Brewery. Which then causes me to tell myself I don’t need to leave the house anyways if that’s all I miss. But I remember what that year of isolation led to. I remember the struggle with drug abuse, addiction, methamphetamine, alcoholism. I remember crawling out of that horrid, deep hole. It was awful. I never want to return to that person ever.
Thus, in the end I better not get comfortable here. I better focus on getting better and not settling into this isolation – which is strangely enjoyable, comforting, familiar. I better get out of this whole the moment I’m allowed to, force myself into some form of sociability and not simply dig this whole deeper. Maybe in the meantime I can fix this awful anxiety, misery and depression.