bad self portraits
I am not in a great mental space right now. I have an appointment with a dr. next week, and will perhaps finally start getting a more official handle on my stupid anxiety, which seems to slither in and out of my life whenever it wants, disappearing for a time until I feel like I'm stupid for being out of sorts. Then it pops back up again without warning, or just before I get my period, or just after, or at any time convenient to it. I'm tired of avoiding making decisions out of conviction that they'll be the wrong ones, of feeling worthless, of being the thing that comes in and spoils it for everyone else. I'm not doing anything more difficult than making cookies because they're easy and they sort of feel productive and then I can eat them, because eating very badly is another kind of escape route that I really, really shouldn't be escaping down. No gym, no aikido, bad bad. Gained ten pounds.
Reading, yes - because that's something to do that's not a decision, not something I'm responsible for.
Never been formally diagnosed with anything but I have buckets of relatives with anxiety disorders of some stripe or another, and I suspect that a particularly bad boss the past five years - plus, perhaps, my age - was the cracks starting to weaken the dam.
Bad nights with a chest that feels like it has a brick of lead in it, or that my skin is full of bees. Random crying or anger. Endless epic distractions: there's always something on the internet for me to look at so look and look and look.
And then I feel fine for a while and wonder if it's really all that bad.
So. I'm a little tipsy on half an Ambien right now. I'm pleased I have a dr's appointment to go to so hopefully I can get on top of some of this. I'm not in a bad space right now and so almost canceled the appointment and then remembered that no, wait - that's a bad idea. I got several new books via Kindle and will talk about them later. I'm doing ok. I just can be doing better, so I'm going to see if that's possible.
This entry was originally posted at http://sienamystic.dreamwidth.org/459123.html. Please comment here or there using OpenID.
Reading, yes - because that's something to do that's not a decision, not something I'm responsible for.
Never been formally diagnosed with anything but I have buckets of relatives with anxiety disorders of some stripe or another, and I suspect that a particularly bad boss the past five years - plus, perhaps, my age - was the cracks starting to weaken the dam.
Bad nights with a chest that feels like it has a brick of lead in it, or that my skin is full of bees. Random crying or anger. Endless epic distractions: there's always something on the internet for me to look at so look and look and look.
And then I feel fine for a while and wonder if it's really all that bad.
So. I'm a little tipsy on half an Ambien right now. I'm pleased I have a dr's appointment to go to so hopefully I can get on top of some of this. I'm not in a bad space right now and so almost canceled the appointment and then remembered that no, wait - that's a bad idea. I got several new books via Kindle and will talk about them later. I'm doing ok. I just can be doing better, so I'm going to see if that's possible.
This entry was originally posted at http://sienamystic.dreamwidth.org/459123.html. Please comment here or there using OpenID.