Thursday, February 18, 2016

What day is it?

I have always had to put some effort into figuring out what day of the week it is - like really think about it.  Sometimes I've had to look it up.

I figured that once I started working, I'd have a better subconscious understanding of what day of the week it is, but I don't.  I know Sundays because we have church and then an afternoon of dread that the busyness will start up again with the evening and Monday morning.

I was having a conversation with a co-worker awhile back, and I noted that in my work life, I look at a calendar many times per day.  In my personal life, the days have unique names.  For example, yesterday was "anatomy hot lunch day" because one child was going on a field trip to see an anatomy exhibit and two others were having pizza for lunch at school.  Today is "grade 8 festival friend jazz roundup day", and tomorrow is a long one:  "half day money friend roundup hapkido small group but no youth" day.

Somehow these new names are much more calming to me than, "Crap what day is it and what am I forgetting right now that I need to rush to?!?!??"

As calming as they are, they still have not straightened out my time management struggles, apparently, since this morning at 7:45 I was at Walmart with my teen buying dress shoes for him to wear to his school band festival performance today.  And sometime today I need to print and fill out paperwork for an upcoming marching band tour of his, including making a photocopy of his passport that I have not yet renewed or brought with me to work.  Oh yes, and there is the trip deposit due...

Thursday.  I think it is Thursday.

Monday, February 1, 2016

Head down, keep running

I have felt horrible for weeks.

It started with a little anxiety, so I increased my Cipralex from 2.5 mg to 5 mg.

It progressed to such intense panic attacks that I couldn't calm myself, not even a little bit.  I increased my Cipralex to 10 mg, started taking a multivitamin and my iron, paying attention to my water consumption and making an effort to work out again.  Three panic attacks in one week.  Awful.

Now, after almost a month of just continuing on the best I can, my body is so achey.  My muscles are restless and uncomfortable.  Every single muscle.  My hands swell so much at night that I can't wear my rings anymore.  My sides hurt, and my chest hurts.  There's one spot in the middle of my chest, right between my breasts, that hurts with each breath, especially the exhale.

Obviously (to me) this stuff is more than anxiety.  But I haven't gone to the doctor because I know that will be the diagnosis.  And I will get no help and will have wasted my time.

Anxiety continues to be a riddle I cannot solve.