I’ve been feeling really anxious lately, more worried, more on edge, more depressed. It’s a terrible thing because I do suffer from depression and anxiety and I know that it can present its symptoms in cycles. I’ve been feeling really good and I’ve been off of medication for over a year now, but now I am thinking it’s time to get back on some meds and back into counseling.
Last week I had some altercations with my boss at work that just sent me into a tailspin.
I cried at work, which I have never done there, and which is pretty much impossible to get away with doing when you are a waitress and have to serve people and be conversing with them with a smile on your face when inside you just want to curl up and die.
Since that happened, I’ve pretty much been having panicky thoughts about crying at work again.
Panicking about panic? Yeah, that is a sign that it’s time to get some help before I really go off the deep end.
Trouble is, I’ve been off meds and without a doctor so long, I am now adrift in the world without behavioral health care, and I once again have to go about obtaining it.
This morning I spent two hours calling doctors offices, and was only able to get one appointment.. on May 13th. This isn’t an appointment with a therapist, it’s an appointment with a general physician, because this particular office won’t take behavioral health patients unless they are first seen by a primary care doctor. Who the hell knows how long it will take to get help from them after that.
Other places, it’s insane, they don’t even have people to answer the phone. They have “intake services” where you have to leave your name and phone number and a message and they will call you back “as soon as possible.”
People with mental health problems, people who are reaching out and asking for help, some of them who could be completely at their wits end, can’t even get a HUMAN BEING to acknowledge them when they are trying to do so?
It’s unconscionable to me.
The way I see, the only way to get help within a few weeks let alone a few days, is to go to the emergency room, break down, and beg for help.
Why do we have to feel the need to do this?
The system sucks. The system is totally broken.
I had such high hopes that the Obama administration would actually get us better access to better healthcare, but so far, no such luck as far as I can see.
I’m afraid to think how this situation will look a few years from now if the American people aren’t smart enough to elect another democrat, because we all know the others feel about taking care of it’s citizens that need the most help.
Today my parents are celebrating their 22nd wedding anniversary.
My grandparents will be celebrating their 58th wedding anniversary tomorrow.
I have been off my depression/anxiety meds for one year today.
And now it’s been exactly seven years.
That’s a whole hell of a lot of stuff to celebrate, and mourn, and ponder over.
And my boss humiliated me infront of everyone I work with so I cried twice at work tonight which is even more humiliating and awful.
You know what the best thing about today is?
That it will be over soon.
I really want to enjoy this weekend but I am not sure that’s going to happen.
Valentine’s Day. Just another annoying holiday, as most holiday’s annoy me, cause I am a Negative Nancy and feel like holidays are just for reminding people who are alone how alone and lonely they are.
I’m also super stressed because, you know, of course the week that I buy a car and take on the responsibility of a monthly loan payment, it’s going to be the slowest week of the year so far at work and I’m going to make like $200 a week.
I need to get a grip.
Get my ducks in a row.
Accept the things I cannot change and move on with life.
Blog earlier in the day like it matters, which I do swear, it totally does.
I think it’s the cold, and the dark, and the winter.
You know, I think we all thought it was going to be mild and fly by, nothing to worry about, nothing we’ll remember a few years from now.
But it snows a few times a week.
Forecasters (as useful and accurate as palm readers) are using words like “bitter” “frigid” and “dangerous” to describe the temperature.
I keep the thermostat on 70 degrees and still need a hoodie and blanket and get the shivers anyway.
It’s cold that seeps into your bones.
I have the SAD.
I feel like I’ve been like this all weekend:
I just want to keep my hood up and head down and just sit here quietly by myself and read Unbroken and pretend that I don’t have do anything of the things I have to do until the moment I hand over a wad of cash and sign my name on the line and drive away in my new Jeep tomorrow.
And I have this horrible feeling that something is going to go wrong and I am not going to be able to get it.
Like for some reason I’ll go there and they tell me whoops, we’re sorry, we can’t actually approve you for this loan.
Or whoops, we’re sorry, we accidentally sold this particular Jeep to someone else even though you put a deposit down on it.
NO JEEP FOR YOU!
I’m afraid of the Jeep Nazi.
Or maybe just bad karma.
You know, when things just feel like they’re just too good to be true, and can’t possibly be this easy? That.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Silver Screen.” – Can you guess what movie the title is from in the comments?
Whelp, I’m drunk.
I knew this would happen eventually if I was going to do NaBloPoMo, because Saturday nights I usually go to a friend’s house to have a bottle of wine after work. We work together, she and I. I don’t know if I should name her by name because I don’t know whether she would be mad about that. I’ll give her a fake name. My friend’s fake name will be Maddy, because she’s pretty mad.
Like, “We’re all mad around here.”
So anyway, we drank a BIG bottle of wine, because it was totally one of those nights at work. It pretty much sucked. My tip percentage was 19.82 after tipping out my busser, so that’s really nothing to turn my nose at. I mean, we HOPE that people will tip 20% so if it’s around there that’s good, but if it’s like 22-25%? That’s fucking great. Once I had a morning where I made 27% and I walked out ecstatic.
But holy shit do I need a vacation. Or I seriously, seriously need to go back to the doctor and get on some anxiety relieving meds. I was THISCLOSE to having a panic attack at work tonight. I was THISCLOSE to almost crying at work tonight. This is not a good thing, and I have to do something about it.
So, Monday it will be my goal to call someone up at this great new medical building downtown and see if I can get myself some sort of therapist around my house. I need someone who will give me the good shit. I need some fast acting Ativan or something for when I am at work and feel like I am about to have a heart attack and die and can’t breathe and have to go in the walk-in and put my face all over a bag of english muffins for a minute to cool down, to fucking cool down and take a moment to regroup.
It’s really not good.
Also, I haven’t written anything today, and since there’s only like 15 minutes left in today and now I’m drunk, this is not a good thing. So I’m like, two days behind now. Ooooph.
Okay, this is ridiculous. If anyone read all the way down to this sentence, you deserve an reward for reading these drunk ranty ramblings.
Here’s your reward:
(You’re not the only one who wishes the reward was bigger.)
Two minutes til midnight. Booyah.