Damn I absolutely cannot beat the feeling that I am about to drop into an abyss of depression. I am way too far inside of my own head, and feel such an overwhelming feeling of the fuck-it’s. It’s the worst it’s been in a while, and I am hoping that the it was the funeral, or something minor that will pass in a couple of days.
When I get like this I want to run away from everyone and everything. I try and do the menial day to day things to keep myself in the forefront of things. To tell myself this is just a bad day and that my attitude will have everything to do with how tomorrow is.
I had a panic attack at the memorial service this afternoon. It was minor, but could have been more. The scariest thing about these attacks is my fear that feeds into it, that I won’t be able to get the attack under control. That only makes it worse. I felt myself getting that fuzzy headed feeling, the kind you get right before you are going to pass out and all I could think of was “Good Lord, not here. Not in a funeral of all places.” Instead I concentrated on my breathing and I was okay a couple of minutes later.
I couldn’t make it to the after services. But I didn’t want to go home and just sit there either (which is exactly what I did). I am aware that it just made it easier to fall deeper into my head. There is a perfect storm brewing in there. Work is an overwhelming clusterfuck. Finances are crazy. Birthday is looming. I’m tired of being lonely and too frightened, and lazy to venture out and do something about it. The idea of getting back on a dating site absolutely horrifies me. So I sit here and think. And think. And think some more. I try and shut it down with inane television, or music, but it can’t drown the Ick that stifles me.
I really feel like I should reconsider therapy, but ironically I don’t have time for it, because of the clusterfuck job. I hem and haw about plans made, trying to consider if I want to do this or that, or just stay home. It’s like I feel like I have all the tools I need to bolster myself out of this, but I’ve forgotten what they are or how to use them. Imagine waking up one day and someone sits a plate of food down in front of you and all the utensils you need and you’ve forgotten what a fork is, or how it’s supposed to be used. That’s me. I’ve forgotten what a fucking fork is for.
I think I will take a Xanax, go to bed, watch some Bob’s Burgers and hope that tomorrow brings a smidge of joie de vivre.