Icicles, taken by me, December 2008
Maybe I sound from my recent posts like I’ve got everything figured out now, and I’m happy all the time. I don’t, and I’m not. I doubt I’ll ever be 100%. Last week was good. This week is crappy. The holidays are hard. I’m working, working, working, covering everyone else’s vacations and sick days. My family doesn’t live here, so I’m not like everyone else, needing time off to be with them.
When you have mental health problems, the holidays can feel really shitty.
The only thing that is keeping me sane at work is making lots of lists, and then doing everything on the list, and checking them off. This has been an exceptionally hard week. I had my last session with my therapist, and even though we agreed it was time, it still hurt inside. I am also going through that time of the month, and it has hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt like a miserable bag of hormones.
People have been cranky at work too. And it has been making me cranky. Patrons are really starting to annoy me. There is one old man who has just been coming to the library and playing solitaire on his laptop for twelve hours a day. I don’t know why, but it has been bugging the shit out of me. I want to pick up his laptop and throw it out the front door. I want to tell him to stop wasting his time and to stop making me depressed with his empty life. Rationally, I know this is stupid and he has nothing to do with me. If he wants to be a useless old man so what? But it bothers me in ways I can’t explain.
I have been on the waiting list to see a psychiatrist since last August and I got to see him on Tuesday. It was actually a pretty interesting session. He was able to offer insight into what is happening in my body when I have anxiety. He said when it builds up in your system it needs an outlet and that’s why you cry and lash out at people for no reason. He also said that your mind will latch onto something you’re already worried about to try and justify the way your body is feeling. He also said that when I was having panic attacks, my mind was making up nightmares to go with them to account for the panic in my body. All of your worries get blown out of proportion because your mind is trying to come up with a reason for why your body is feeling so awful. He said the best thing to do is exercise it out.