On Thursday, I felt so anxious. I woke up full of dread-- I had to go to work. I didn't want to. I still felt freaking exhausted from the previous three days of emotional despair and never-ending anxiety. I cried the entire drive to my parents house, where I was going to stop to pick up some Gabacalm. I repeatedly asked the universe, "What do I DO?!" It answered. When I got to my parents house, I parked and turned off my car. I went inside, grabbed the Gabacalm, then went back out to start my car and head to work, but the key wouldn't turn. The ignition was stuck. I tried my spare key, tried them both a million times but it just wouldn't budge. I ended up on the phone with Subaru roadside assistance, being a total asshole to the guy on the other end. They told me my car would have to be towed so they could figure out what was wrong with it. My mom's van was also getting an oil change at the time, so there was no other car for me to take to work. Eventually, my mom came out and got it working (as Moms do) but by that time I was in full-on meltdown mode. I was in no place to go to work, no place to do ANYTHING. It took me an hour to call my boss and tell her I wasn't coming in. For some reason, it felt like the hardest thing in the world. I'm now convinced that my sharing my vulnerability with her was a really good thing. Once the phone call was made, I immediately relaxed. Instead of going to work, I stayed home and talked to my parents for three hours.
By Friday, I felt okay but I didn't feel OKAY, you know? I felt exhausted, like I had just been through a week's worth of work, but I had barely even been there. All day at work, people asked me how my "time off" had been. I laughed at that, because I hadn't had any time off. I had three days of battling myself, feeling like I was ripping apart at the seams, trying to hold myself together. I was afraid of my own thoughts, afraid that I'm the one who can't piece herself back together, that I'm the one who falls and can't pick herself back up.
I got through the day for three reasons. 1) I kept telling myself I could go home at any time. 2) Eli brought me Panera about midday. 3) I ended up having a really great conversation with a coworker of mine, when I finally answered the question of, "How are you?" honestly.
But it didn't stop there. The weekend was wrought with more hard conversations and anxiety. I don't know how, but I made it through two full days of work. I was originally going to take a half-day Saturday, but that time came and went, and I was still standing.
Over the course of this week, it was brought to my attention that I tend to over-schedule myself. I don't know how to talk about that. I know it's true, and I see myself doing it and how it affects me. But it's like I can't shut it off. I can never stop and just be. I think that seemingly unbreakable habit contributed to my overall feeling of dissatisfaction this week, this feeling that I don't enjoy things anymore. But how the f*ck could I, when I'm just going through the motions all the time?
I like routine. I'm comfortable in it. But I also know that it's a coping mechanism and, as my Mom put it, I fill my time with busy-ness so I never have to sit in silence and feel the ugly things I sometimes feel. Which is probably what makes me feel like I have no time. Of course I don't. I'm filling it all!
Right now, I'm trying to stay present. Eli and I are watching a lot of The Office, and doing yoga together. I don't know what this all adds up to. I don't know what the next steps are, but I know they're coming. I don't know why things had to be so hard this week. But I'm just trying to channel season 3 Pam Beesly, and do what I gotta do for me. (Ahem- she walked through FIRE!)