It's been a long time since we last left off, and I can't say I have a great reason for that. I'm still nervous and awkward, and I still want to write about that and other things in my little world. Unfortunately, I think I have this tendency to retreat into my own... silent self-crapulence when I most need to communicate.
Well, then. What's the haps with the craps?
I woke up early this morning with a panic attack. I seem to have two kinds of panic attacks: one is brought on by an acutely distressing situation and/or spiraling thoughts that lead to a physical response, the other seems to happen more like an aftershock - I get a more unexpected onset of the physical panic symptoms that I don't seem to have consciously triggered. But usually there is a lurking issue that's weighing on me and it seems to be my body's way of saying "hey, there's something you need to address!" The one this morning seemed to be more of the latter. (Which, side note: perhaps I'm a bit slow but I find myself always having to pause and re-read when writers use the former/latter bit and tend to get annoyed if it's used too much. Umm derr... the latter is the later choice right? Shit, what were those options again?) Anyway. Panic! It's a bad way to wake up! Was this a roundabout way of saying that something is troubling me? Well yes, yes it was. But I'll get to that in a minute.
I have to take a moment to give a shout-out to Xanax. I know it seems practically cliche, and I'm sure it can be overused and some people tut-tut it the same way they do with Prozac, etc. But let me tell you. While I've been addressing my depression with medication for years, it took the impending trip to Spain last year to ask my doctor if there was anything I could do in case I had one of my panic attacks. I don't know why I felt like I had to have a big enough reason - flying, leaving the country for the first time - to ask for help with the panic attacks that I've had going back to my pre-teen years. (Not constantly though, which is I guess part of why I didn't address it sooner.) And the Xanax does make a big difference. The thing is, almost a year later I still have the same one-time prescription bottle and while I have had to take them on a few occasions, it's mostly having them that has helped a lot. Just knowing that there is SOMETHING I can take that will help slow things down, that will help me to not feel like my heart will pound right out of my chest and that death is imminent (which, when your mind is already looping with thoughts of death/helplessness and then you physically start to feel like you are maybe going to actually die RIGHT NOW is just a cruel awful experience.) So, Xanax - it can help.
The nagging issue that's been troubling me is of the what-the-hell-do-I-do-with-my-life? variety. And the why-didn't-I-figure-something-ANYTHING-out-years-ago variety. There have been issues at work that are not sitting well with me, and while that's not exactly new, it's been feeling more soul-sucking than ever. And a recent unfortunate inappropriate incident has me all fight-or-flighty. BUT. With the amount of jobs there aren't and with the amount of skills/prerequisites I don't have... it seems like a luxury to say "wah wah, I don't want to bide my time working for a company that I don't believe in and at times makes my stomach turn while I wait half-hoping that the company will implode and/or people will get a taste of their own douchebaggery." But maybe that's just how most people feel about their jobs from time to time. Not that it should be. Ugh.
For some reason, one of the things that cheers/calms me these days is watching The Bob Newhart Show or The Mary Tyler Moore Show on hulu. Sometimes there's an odd comfort in older comedy shows that have a live studio audience, especially if one is feeling lonely/distraught at night. It's the little things, you know?