I am sitting here at the shop, minding the store while R is out doing some sort of outcall.
I had to leave briefly for an eye appointment.
They took my blood pressure and it was a little high.
I was having a panic attack.
Yes, from the mere act of an eye doctor appointment sent me into a panic attack that highered my blood pressure. I had to explain myself, lest they start freaking out about how I need to get that checked out…And I was embarrassed. Panic attacks are humiliating. I have learned to channel them inward for the most part,so aside from the whole deer in headlights looking for an exit thing, most don’t know I am having a panic attack unless it’s one of the monster attacks.
Unless it’s a doctor’s appointment and they take my blood pressure. That never lies.
Now I just feel dumb.
And the eye doc said there have been drastic changes in my right eye that concern him and might be signs of diabetes so I have to go get that checked out. Which means more panic and freaking out and pacing office floors because I cannot do waiting with any grace.
Just something so goddamned simple…
and it’s a major ordeal for me.
Self loathing doesn’t begin to cover how I feel after these stupid panic attacks. I wish they’d just go away.
Things have settled down a bit… I had to take an Ativan yesterday because I was having pain in my chest. Residuals from my anxiety this past weekend I’m sure. But just to be on the safe side, I didn’t work out.
So, my bestie calls me yesterday, before noon, so I knew something was up… She was calling from the HOSPITAL! In for her gallbladder and pancreatitis. Of course, she drove herself. LOL! While on Vicodin! But I guess when your having an attack, and it won’t go away, you just gotta go…. I remember I let my gallbladder bother me for a year, until one day I couldn’t take it any more…. But I digress…
We have plans to go away on Monday to a casino/resort, for my 40th birthday. (My birthday is on Wednesday the 20th, but she has to work that night) So as of the last time I spoke with her, they were putting her on a liquid diet for 24 hours, and if her pancreas calmed down, they were going to go in on Friday and take her gallbladder out. Then she would be free to go home after surg. on Friday. And good to go back to work on Saturday provided she did no lifting and what not. But, Murphy is not her friend, and he likes to make things difficult for her. She said no matter what she was leaving on Sunday if she was still in the hospital. I told her to just get better.
Outside of thoughts about corsetry, it’s pretty mellow around these parts. And the only reason I’m thinking about corsetry is that I’ve started wearing one in the hopes of correcting the swayback that my daughter gave me two and a half years ago when I was pregnant with her. Yeah yeah yeah, that’s a long-ass time to realize just how swaybacked one has become, ha ha. I was aware that the angle of my hips was wonky, but because my back hurt so much less, I hadn’t really processed. So yes, I’ve got a corset working to pull my back to where it should be (and isn’t she a beaut?), adjusting my sitting position to rotate my tailbone down, and dabbling in some exercises of various sorts. It won’t make the leftover belly fat go away, but at least it might help me look less pregnant (even this far on, even when I got back into the 120s for a bit, I still looked six months gone… yuck).
Of course, irony dictates that I’m probably pregnant again (no idea on that one yet, ha ha), but at least I’ve got a plan of action to try to fix things next time! The joys of aging and spawning, the joys of all the little things you have to figure out after the fact in the fact of lots of fake-ass advice insisting that you should be pre-baby slim in weeks or months. *chuckles* And while I might not be the vainest of people, part of good mental health is not completely hating the body you’re stuck in. If you’re cool with your body, then that’s one less thing trying to destroy your sanity, yanno? Having my back feel all funny (not pained, not weak – just funny) had been nibbling on my sanity since my daughter was born, so getting to try to correct that stops that particular beast from attempting to pull me under.
So yes, gut-crunching fun… sort of! I think I’ll opt for an underbust on the next one I buy though. I’ll definitely be getting more in future; I like the back support.
It was once again one of those days where my nerves were climbing walls and my paranoid bells were ringing. I have no idea why. I just know it happens so often I feel like a bloody freak.
Then I went out to take R his lunch and had my kid with me and the entire time I was just a nervous wreck because she’s not a sedentary child, she never stops moving or trying to get into things. I just wanted out of there, but he wanted company for lunch, and it was this precarious balancing act for me. All I could do was obsess about going home, back to my safe zone, where I can be calmer.
I feel like I should have a giant F tattooed on my forehead because I am obviously a freak. A crazy neurotic conundrum freak of nature.
Does anyone with a mental illness ever truly feel not like a freak? Or is it just me?
I do have issues, of course. Probably is all me feeling like a freak.