Ah, how thrilling are the days of the mentally suffering!
I wasn’t going to post anything today, though I’d been thinking about a few things this morning, but I thought I’d save them till they formed into a more definite shape. Trying to train my mind to be more focused, less scattered.
Thought it would be a quiet day today so I wanted to be productive. But hey, life is constantly thrilling when you are socially anxious. Because anxiety sets off adrenaline to the max. Who needs diving off a plane into a dark cave when you have anxiety! Sheesh!
I had to find a cashpoint and withdraw some money to pay for my daughter’s school meals this morning. So I got out, in the rain, feeling happy and confident: getting into the car, no big deal. We live on a main road, so lots of traffic, reversing into oncoming cars etc. I drove to the hospital to try and use the cashpoint there but there was no way to park for free for a few minutes. So I drove down to the town. Got the money, then had to drive back. Traffic was increasing. Roundabouts, queuing up. Git with white van behind me. The traffic light is green but if I go and the queue in front does not move I will be blocking the intersection, creating chaos. So I slow, despite green light, and of course git honks his horn. I laugh at the fact that my hand gesture, which in Italian and in my head at the time signified: “Calm down, you twiddle, what the hell you getting all frazzled for?” to him, from the back, and being British, would have seemed like “I’m ever so sorry”. Driving back, couldn’t help oncoming traffic get past stuff because git in back was in a rush. Barely could stay within speed limit ’cause git was in a rush. Stop with indicator to turn into my driveway, oncoming traffic does not let me pass, not even when an ambulance is seen arriving behind me. Let me pass you idiots so I clear the road! They don’t, so I pull over onto the opposite side to let ambulance pass, then scramble all the way across to other side into my driveway.
Not a big deal! You’d think. Except my heart started slamming against my ribcage at a hundred miles per hour and with added punch, as I still hadn’t taken my B12 ad I stupidly thought I’d be ok without the Propranolol (adrenaline inhibitor). This was 8:20 am.
Off with my husband to take daughter to school, she managed to tie her own shoe laces at last!, drop her off, then slow down deliberately because next to me in the entrance is another mum who lives very close to me and I didn’t want her to stop and ask me whether I wanted a lift in her car as it is pouring.
I avoid her and start walking up through the fields, chest still pounding. I walk through the fields, take in the mist, the sky clearing up, the cheeky faces of the sheep who look at me, I love it, am happy. But still my chest is heaving. I get home, I decide to do some Witcher playing because I had plans to clean the house and edit my novel but no, too agitated. At last, at about 12, I get up. My chest is finally peaceful. I start feeling active and productive. Sit at computer as husband’s written email. Happy for him. A couple of emails with son etc. Read a few blog updates. Decide that’s it, I’m getting up now and doing stuff.
Knock at door.
Heart jumps. I thought it was neighbour so keep Zoom the gorgeous behind closed door. It is not neighbour. It is a guy, with an interesting marked face, smells of cigarettes, not young, who has a note, and it says he has no job but instead of claiming benefits he wants to sell some household items. He takes checks too. I am flustered. I understand his situation, I want to help. All I’ve got is coinage, which I guard jealously as I will use it to buy milk. I am not allowed to give him any checks, of course. If I did, my husband would be furious, look what happened with the kitty and we’re only just sorting it all out now, trying a different approach to budget planning and spending and all that. how am I going to explain all this to this guy? I tell him the truth, I don’t think the change will make much difference to you whereas to me it will I need it for milk. I can’t, I won’t give you any cheques. I see in his face he doesn’t believe me. He sees the house we’re in, he doesn’t believe me. How can we not have money? Cheap bastards. I want to tell him wait, no let’s talk, any other way I can help? I get it, I do, we can talk together! But he’s already started to go, rolling his eyes, and I am so agitated that I just want him off my doorstep, I don’t have Zoom my beautiful dog next to me to make me feel secure.
There goes my heart again. My chest pounding again. I know I have to get up and do stuff but that won’t quiet my thoughts and I need to keep my thoughts quiet. So I write. Lay it down on the keyboard. Feeling I have been judged unfairly is one of my worse triggers. I know it can kickstart depression like nothing else. The anxiety, the heart pounding, that is the fertile groundwork from which it is built, so I have to calm that, and control my thoughts. That’s a lot of work!
I want to get up and do stuff, and perhaps I will. I will take that pill I didn’t take before, and then at least tidy the kitchen, see if the will to dust and clean some of the house returns. Otherwise, it may be back to the Witcher for me.
It is all a bloody pain. The blog post I had in mind, gone. All those mental notes of stuff to do, things to write down, practicalities, things I could do over the phone, things I wanted to do in the house… all gone. My mind is a blank and all it is focused on now is to stop depression from kicking in, and reining in my anxiety.
I’m not complaining, my life is rosy compared to my own before! My mind is rosy compared to how it was. It is just… exhausted. I guess. It’s like it needs to be constantly sheltered, protected, and then everything is fine. I will not let the thoughts start, about working, about not working, about nothing. Stop them now and move on, get stuff done, then play or get some more stuff done. Full stop. And that, is my greatest weapon. The full stop.