Posts tagged anxiety
Posts tagged anxiety
Especially when your anxiety keeps getting triggered in a major way and you find yourself taking 50mg of hydroxyzine just to be able to regain control of yourself.
To be able to enjoy watching “The Waters of Mars.”
This is not one of those hours. Skipping straight on to “The End of Time,” yeeeeup.
And despite the fact I’ve actually worked in tech support and can promise you that:
I was still basically like “argh, I probably just didn’t pay them, I’ll go to bed and deal with it in the morning.”
And then this morning I was all keyed up with anxiety over calling them (as in, I woke up an hour earlier than I absolutely have to - in the middle of a major depressive episode) and I pulled up my phone and… the connection was working again. Took downloading about forty different webpages just to be confident in the result, even though it typically takes about 45 seconds at most to determine that the wifi isn’t getting through to the internet.
Chronic anxiety plus ADHD. Gotta love it.
(note: the ADHD is the root source of a good deal of my anxiety; I’ve learned through sad experience that “Demeter screwed up” or “Demeter forgot” is a very reasonable explanation for a lot of things that go wrong.)
Trash and recycling and I have a hate-hate relationship. I hate touching it, and I hate being around it. Usually my “hate of touching” wins out over the “hate of being around,” which results in weeks and weeks of trash and recycling piling up.
I’m much better about this than I used to be - there was about a year or so where almost nothing ever left my apartment except myself and my backpack (and we both came home every night.) It gets much worse when I’m depressed, but I think the worst I’ve been in the last year or so is something like 8-10 weeks between trash runs. In part because my therapist and I see each other every two weeks and I usually get really annoyed by about week 6 and we talk about it and then I take the trash out and feel really crappy for a while and then really really relieved and proud of myself. And the cycle begins again.
The two jars of peanut butter (plastic, with a tendency to roll in circles and stop) weigh almost the same as the five cans of refried beans (tin cans, with a tendency to roll and roll and roll and roll, and also dent, and occasionally explode.) The cans will also make a more noticeable amount of noise if they fall, because there’s five of them and metal makes a louder sound AND they’re more densely packed than the PB.
(Other factors include sharp edges and the likelihood I could catch things. Everything favored the PB, really. Somewhat ironically, the only bag that ripped was the one with the Twizzlers and tunafish packets - and no, it did not all fall out; if it had I would have had to get a new grocery store.)
And about a million other decisions exactly like this, only with slightly (VERY slightly) different details.
Panic and anxiety came up in the film and I’m not sure I feel about how it was done.
I had to go to the pharmacy to get my scripts from yesterday filled, and that used up my laundry-doing energy, I think. The increase in my Buspar that started as of yesterday made today very, very sleepy. And, I have to take the nighttime dose for today right now so that I have a hope of waking up OK tomorrow.
I am almost completely certain I have enough clean clothes to get through tomorrow, and I am definitely certain I don’t need to go anywhere after work tomorrow. So I’ll give the laundry thing another shot tomorrow if I don’t feel better in a little while.
(Seriously, I am tempted to drink some soda for the sugar rush to combat this sleepiness. It is 7pm and I want to be in bed…)
My anxiety and other stuff is getting triggered in all kinds of ways, so if you’re looking for me on any social media site, don’t. I’ll try again tomorrow.
(I really recommend that those of us who are prone to anxiety just shut it down and read a happy book or write some poetry or something. It is not healthy to wallow in this stuff, especially when you know the effects are going to be bad. And you’re not helping anyone by suffering!)
I know that I have major “anxiety” issues, and I accepted the “OCD” diagnosis pretty fast, and so on and so on. Obviously, I have many well-earned diagnoses; for the most part this is something I don’t forget because they interfere with my life all the freaking time.
The panic disorder was a little less a part of my self-concept, though - it’s easy to tell yourself that you were “just uncomfortable” or that you “made a big deal out of nothing,” particularly when your doctors aren’t completely confident themselves (everyone agrees I’m agoraphobic; the question has always been about panic, particularly since I’m so avoidant in general and because I’ve never had the heart-attack/going-to-die thing the way a lot of people do.)
Read below only if you don’t have problems with physical purity/cleanliness/contamination triggers.