Monthly Archives: July 2007

I spent an accumulative hour or more fixing something at work today in between the other 43059340698 things that get thrown at me at the same time. When I was finally finished, I automatically hit ‘Enter’ to tell the system that I want it to save all the changed I’d just spent so much time making - to update how I wanted it to. What does the system do? It simply refreshes without saving a single change. Nothing. Needless to say, it did not make me happy. I asked if our system has some sort of “time-out” thing where if you leave a tab idle for a certain amount of time it wouldn’t save the update. Of course, we have no such thing. So why didn’t it update? We’ll never know.

I guess I can’t complain too much, I picked up my new glasses today. The difference is remarkable - I can see everything again! Even teeny tiny text. I’m very happy with them. I got two pairs - one for everyday normal wear and one for going out. “Going out glasses?!” you ask? Yes. Going out glasses. They have rhinestones. ‘Nuff said. :)

Omg. I just heard the HUGEST boom downstairs. I’m going to make sure everything is okay.

Holy shit. Thing #3 is actually wearing…. dun dun DUUUNNNN… color!!! I had to look three times just to believe what my eyes were seeing. She who has never been seen wearing anything other than all black [*shudders*] is wearing an army green (very plain) t-shirt. Wow. I may need to lay down. I think I’m in shock.

Okay. I feel much better now.

Have you ever tried Smirnoff Pomegranate Fusion? Mmmmm… Smirnoff is turning me into a lush. I never have more than 2 or 3, and they’ve yet to even make me tipsy, but damn are they yummy. If you haven’t already, you should definitely pick up a 6 pack the next time you are out. So worth it.

So I have amazing news that I almost forgot about - Mom and I are going to a MAC event FINALLY! *Huge smile* You have no idea how excited I am. If you dont’ wear MAC makeup, you are either a) ignorant and/or crazy or b) in the stix where you don’t actually HAVE a MAC counter or store anywhere near you. I love it, I’m a total MAC whore. There’s a reason it rhymes with crack, trust me. It’s that addictive.

Anyway, the event is limited, so invites are a huge thing. It isn’t until the 21st of next month and I’m already thinking about how I’m going to do my makeup and wtf I’m going to wear. The new fall collection they are promoting is called “Smoke Signals” and it looks absolutely MADE for me - dark, smokey eyes and naturally nude lips (not pale or white, but true nude shades). I’m totally on Cloud 9 just thinking about it. This is good timing too because I just ran completely out of powder.

You know what I just realized? Nothing I’ve had to say so far has anything to do with anxiety. I’m taking that as a good sign. :)

Though my anxiety level hasn’t eased up, it’s been a couple days since my last physical panic episode. I thought this was a sign of accomplishment - that maybe, just maybe I’ve gotten a little better. I guess I was wrong.

Despite what I consider a fallback, there was an up-side to this attack - I was able to recover in less than 5 minutes. I’m sure this is a record for quickest recovery time yet. I consider recovery when my breathing is back to normal, my heart stops pounding out of my chest, and my thoughts are no longer spiratic and intense. When I no longer feel scared.

What’s so different about this attack? HP held me. He comforted me and hepled me feel better. This gives me faith in one thing - with the support of people I love and trust (and who love me), I can overcome this.

I sit here listening to my favorite Rise Against album and am suddenly overwhelmed with sadness - they played here a few weeks ago and I was too tired/broke to go. Now I regret it. I’ve seen them once already, but they are one of my favorite bands on the planet. I so should have gone.

/whine.

I’m so tired. I slept most of the weekend and could easily go back to sleep with no problems right now. I think it’s that time of the month… but with my IUD, nothing actually happens; I just feel shitty. Bloaty, crampy, over-dependant (a.k.a. needy) and just blah in general. I would really like to curl up into a ball and sleep the week away. If only I had a clone I could send to work… lol juuust kidding.

All in all, camping went well. I slept most of Friday evening, had a horrible time waking up every hour or so with severe anxiety (which was made worse with the sounds of certain people’s vomiting and moaning in thier drunken state) but Saturday made up for it. We woke up, fell back asleep for a while, woke up again, said hello to everyone for a bit and then hoofed it out ot the river for a couple hours. Then came back to camp and slept for a couple more hours. Now that I think about it, we pretty much slept most of Saturday away - but it was sooo worth it. We both had an exhausting week at work and were simply overtired. Sleep did us well.

Getting to sleep Saturday night was much easier thanks to my dear friend Tylenol PM. I only woke up twice with mild anxiety that I was able to talk myself out of and fall back to sleep. Not sure what time we got up this morning… somewhere around noon.

Oh yay - the bathroom’s open, I’ll write more later. :)

15 minute break here at work… figured I’d spend the next 5 venting, since I obviously need to badly. So camping is tonight. Two nights, two days of camping. Sun, sand, water, sounds like fun, eh? Yeah. I wish it were that simple. For me, it’s an extreme test of will and self-control.. I can’t handle overhearing other people (loved ones I’m very close to are excluded in this). Footsteps, voices, noises, etc. This will cause me to flat-out panic when I think I’m hearing such things - which is a great possiblitiy since our tent will be amongst about 12 others.

I can’t concentrate on anything today. All I can think about is how I’m going to be able to sleep both nights without the fan. The fan has become my one saving grace. My one absolute comfort. The fan is unbiased and constant. It drowns out all other sounds. The Fan can’t come camping with us.

If you haven’t noticed, this anxiety controlls my daily life now. It took ahold of me 4 or 5 months ago and hasn’t let go since. With no sign of relief in the near future. The Books tell me the only way to overcome such severe anxiety is to do exactly what I’ve been  spending every waking minute of my life NOT doing - exposing myself to my fears. Small baby steps of exposure will supposedly end all fears and anxiety. Ha. Easier fucking said than done.

HP has a very hard time with this. How can I possibly expect him to know what I’m going through? How can I expect him to know that all I want him to do is hold me when I’m feeling this way? How can I expect him to know how it makes me feel inside? That my anxiety is changing who I am as a person.

Fuck. I have to get back to work.

Ever have one of those days where you just want to go home and sleep off a massive headache? Today is Day #6 of a constant, dull, throbbing headache on the top of my forehead. For 6 days now I’ve woken up and fallen asleep with this same headache. Isn’t it time for a break?!

Mmm, it’s lunchtime for me. I have yummy leftover Candlelight (chinese) in the fridge, but don’t feel hungry. Maybe I ate too many Fig Newtons for breakfast. Bah. If it’s not one thing, it’s another for me. I can’t remember the last time NOTHING was wrong with me. Hmm… does that make me a pessimist?

Camping trip is this weekend… we are leaving tomorrow. The closer it gets, the more and more nervous I feel. I can’t even enjoy camping anymore without anxiety being a very real problem. Thankfully, Shady K fixed my i-pod the other day, so I’ll at least have that if I feel a panic coming on. *le sigh* I love camping. I hate that I’m dreading it as much as I’m looking forward to it. Why do I have to deal with this? Why do I allow it to take over my daily life? Why can’t I get over this??

HP is downstairs making nachos. Mmmmm, nachos. I, of course, am upstairs, holed up in our room becuase I’m not comfortable enough to be anywhere else in the house for longer than I absolutely have to. Simple things I used to love… making dinner, cuddling on the couch watching our 52″ tv, walking through the roomates’ hall to use the shared bathroom… all things that now just thinking about will cause my heart to race, my throat and chest to tighten, my stomach to tie into a million churning knots, and my mind to produce a dire feeling that I am quite literally going crazy.

Of course I know I’m not actually crazy. Pffft - “crazy”. Can anyone even realistically define that word? It’s a very general categorization. If I were really, truly going crazy, I woulnd’t be able to sit here and tell you that the anxiety I’ve been dealing with for the past 4 months is complete bullocks. That the things that trigger such severe, life-changing anxiety are normal, everyday things that one shouldn’t be horribly bothered by. Things that I myself in fact do. Things that drive me absolutely crazy… things I dread hearing and seeing sooo much that in the midst of even a mild panic attack, I hear them even though they aren’t really there.

Things that make me so incredibly, completely uncomfortable that I spend every single minute of my life doing anything and everything I have to do to successfully avoid it.

To someone who has never dealt with severe, 24-hour constant anxiety, you won’t understand what the fuck I’m talking about. But don’t worry, I don’t expect you to. Shit, I didn’t believe anxiety was even a valid problem until I felt it for myself. No matter what I do, no matter where I am or who I’m with, if I feel a panic coming on, there’s only one thing I can do to dissolve it - leave the situation that’s making me feel so uncomfortable. You can imagine how inconvenient this is for Handsome-Pants.

…nachos are on. This shall be “to continued…” For now, I’m going to enjoy my dinner in bed watching Taladega Nights.

I was doing great, I really was. I chatted happily with Thing #2 while he shared his fresh cantaloupe with me. Granted, I blatantly asked if I could have some, but he even cut it for me. I’ll never know if he cut it b/c he wanted me to have a specific sized piece, or if it was cut out of kindness, but either way, I’ll take it. I even let him borrow the truck to go pick something up from the store. I went upstairs, cleaned up the mess next to my side of the bed, and even started working on the tornado that is the other side of our room.

Then it started again. For no real reason. The tight chest, the shortness of breath, the feeling of severe nervousness. I’m so tired of this. Why can’t I live a normal fucking life like I used to? What causes this? My books tell me it’s in direct correlation to the stress levels in my body. The books also tell me (by handy-dandy questionnaire) that my stress levels are the most extreme possible. Which can’t possibly be right since I know for a fact that I have been 2340978 times more stressed out than I am right now. So that already illegitimizes any further and/or prior statement made in those books. Or does it?

We’ll never know, will we? Is it all just a big, laughing joke? A long-winded story-of-all-stories that we happen to play minor rolls in? When was the casting? And why didn’t I decline the audition?!

I suppose I should get going. People are waiting for me and it’s a long drive in traffic. Ah well, something to ponder while sitting idly on the freeway. Or about how work isn’t getting any less stressful.