Manic Panic Monday

Two days of rest is not enough to recuperate from a week of high anxiety.  Especially when one of those days is full of more anxiety, and the other is lacking sleep.  That’s not exactly the best way to start off a week.  Just to get to work this morning, I had to have my husband come with me.  That helped some.  I’m trying to stay positive and reminding myself to keep putting one foot in front of the other, but it’s so draining.  I feel I have no energy this morning.  Well, except for this nervous energy that is taking every last ounce.  Part of me wants to go home.  I can feel calmer at home.  I can take a nap and recharge.  For the most part, I feel “safe” at home.  Another part of me is just telling me to suck it up and stay at work.  I can do this.  I’ve done it before.  I’ve had panic attack clusters and still have been able to function and go to work.  This is nothing in comparison.  I can do this.  The last part of me feels calmer at work than attempting the trip back home.  There is too much stimulation outside.  People on the streets,  waiting for the subway, on the subway, etc.  I can count, I can listen to music, but sometimes it’s just not enough.  I don’t want to run the risk of something happening (like a full blown panic attack, or I pass out) and end up hurt or in the hospital.  That is definitely not okay.  So while my mind races, I’m going to focus every last bit of energy I do have into distracting myself.  Let’s see what I can obsess about today…

I really do think part of the cause of the anxiety is work.  There just simply isn’t enough work for me to do.  Because it’s month end, I can’t invoice, I can’t put orders on, I really can’t do much of anything except answer the phone.  So while I’m sat here, not doing much of anything, my mind races.  Too fast for me to catch up and try to slow down even one train of thought.  It’s like rush hour at Grand Central Station in my head.  But when I’m busy, I’m sure it’s all still there, but it’s so much more manageable.  I can talk myself out of silly thoughts, I’m not so exhausted, and just feel better.  But there’s nothing for me to do.

I know, I know.  I should be grateful I have a job.  I am.  I really am.  I’m thankful I have a place to go everyday–it gets me out of the house and stop me from being such a recluse.  I’ve met people I never would have met in a million years if it weren’t for this job.  I wouldn’t have such an extensive knowledge about a subject I really didn’t pay much attention to before.  I have decent health care and retirement benefits.  So when it comes down to it, I thank my lucky stars every night for my job.  I just wish I were busier.

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