Thursday, October 06, 2005

EFF You, Tom Cruise, And I Hope That's Exactly What Katie Holmes Says When You Try To Keep Her From Medicating Her Post-Partum Depression.

Alright. We're off to a good start!

You might not hear from me for awhile. Well, unless something really funny happens, like someone falling on their face while trying to board the bus....That's just funny, People.

Those of you who know me even a little bit, know that I blush easily. It was always really fun when I was 15 and my 3 older sisters would take turns randomly saying "SEX!" to see just how red I would turn. Well, luckily I've gotten over that, because I have some pretty socially ungraceful friends. Whenever I blush, everyone gets a big kick out of it. "Hey everybody, look how red Kim just turned!" "Oh my god, even her arms are red! Look!" Nice. Well, the blushing thing isn't fun anymore. Now it's turned into full-blown anxiety, and I don't have any way of explaining why the hell I feel the way that I do on a daily basis.

On my last post I told about being asked to run a meeting. That was on Monday of this week. I had a little chat with my boss yesterday about that blog post. She's assured me that I would never be forced to do something that makes me uncomfortable. She said that I'm great at my job, and that I continually impress her with my ability to take on new projects and even create them on my own. I know all of this, but I still can't shake that feeling. Let me say that I love my job. I do. I enjoy what I do and I value those that I work with. I truly have it made in the job department. In spite of all this, I couldn't go to work this morning. I couldn't deal with this horrible fear that something might happen that would make me uncomfortable.

Since Monday I have spent every afternoon trying to keep myself sane between bouts of nausea. See, I know, logically, that the meeting conversation was just an offer made in case I might be interested in running a meeting but hadn't spoken up. No biggie. However, in my crazy head, it's become a looming threat. "What if someone of higher importance wants me to run a meeting one day? Will they think less of me if I say no? Will they understand that I just can't do that sort of thing? When are people going to start noticing that I'm not actually good at my job??? Am I just going to fall through the cracks and be one of those useless employees who manages to stick around through the years? Do they already realize that I'm not good at my job, and I just haven't made that revelation yet???"

Welcome to my world.

Everytime that someone stops by to visit the person sitting in the cube next to me, I listen to their hushed conversations and become engulfed in an unwarranted paranoia that they might be talking about me. Logically? Well, I know that I'm really not that important, and even if they are talking about me, who really cares. But the reality is that I'm convinced that they are, and regardless of what they're saying according to my created scenario, it makes me feel horrible.

Now, some of you might be thinking, "Gee, Kim, I know you like your job and all, but is it really worth all this trauma?" You're absolutely right, and if it were just about work, I would take some serious action. Enter Exibit "Mind Fuck":

1. I've stopped letting my cats outside because I'm absolutely convinced that one of them will get hit by a car. Now that they are inside all day, I sit at work and worry that something will happen. "What if my little Hiefer jumps up on the counter, and when he jumps back down, a knife falls on him???" This isn't just a passing thought. I dwell on this all day.

2. I started having night terrors about 2 months ago. I wake up absolutely terrified for no reason. I feel as though someone has been holding me down, and I am so scared, that I can't even scream. This has led to a fear of someone entering my apartment. When I get home from work in the evening, I engage all 3 locks on my door. Sometimes I sleep on my couch so that I will wake up more quickly if someone tries to get in at night.

I had an appointment for an annual girly exam today. I love those. I especially like it when they rub my cervix with that bristle brush. Good times. So, the nurse came in to take my blood pressure. Everything's fine. We chatted a bit about why I was there. No big deal. The first mistake was her leaving me there for nearly 30 minutes waiting for my doctor. In being true to form, my mind started to wander to horrible things. "What if she finds something wrong???" I finally got control of that, and thought, "Y'know, maybe I should talk to her about all of these things that have been bothering me so much. I might have an anxiety disorder. Maybe some medication would help keep me balanced." Seemed like a good idea to me. But, the story doesn't end there, of course...what fun would that be?? "What if she wants me to start seeing a counselor? What if I need something more immediate than that??? What if she prescribes drugs, and they make me feel worse? What if I find something that works, but I have to take 5 other drugs just to deal with side-effects???"

Isn't this game fun?

My doctor, who I absolutely trust and adore, walked in the room, and gave her usual cheery hello, to which I respond with a fit of crying. I finally calmed myself down, and started to tell her what had been plaguing me for the past 2 months. Apparently this crying business actually works, as my doctor has diagnosed me with "Generalized Anxiety Disorder". Do you know what this means? It means that I'm scared shitless of everything that could happen in the confines of my head.

I'm taking a very low dose of anti-anxiety medication. With the small amount that I'm taking, we should be able to catch any reverse or side-effects before they get out of hand. Yes, I'm a little scared, but I have to believe it will be worth it, because I'm so tired of feeling this way. I don't know if any of you have dealt with depression or anxiety, but it's absolutely exhausting.

I hate that I have fears just like everyone else, but rather than letting them pass I dwell on them all day. I hate that I love my job but I'm afraid to go there. I hate that I love my apartment, and until 2 months ago I wanted to spend every moment there, but now I'm so fearful and uncomfortable when I'm there.

I have to believe that this will help.

4 comments:

Sean said...

Don't sweat it chica. The welbutrin gang is the gang to be in!

wantagolden said...

Hey Babe ~ WELCOME TO MY WORLD!

wantagolden said...

Oh, and SEX!! Hehe. That was fun!

sarah said...

Wow! You got me tearing up after that one. You are not alone. And you will get through it.