Well. Mysteries of the universe solved.
I’m still on the remnant half life of the dose of anxiety medicine I took last night and I feel woonnnddeerrful. I’m able think, I’m able to leave my apartment, I’m able to walk around, I’m able to do schoolwork.
The thinking is important. My brain is actually turning, slightly. Not like on a great day, but on an almost-human day.
What a relief.
I’ll forgive myself if I end up needing anxiety medicine from now until I have located a new job and have moved. This is my last week in my belovedly awesome apartment, btw.
I am actually in a class right now. I just asked a question. I love that after I ask a question, usually someone else asks a question, too. I think sometimes people are afraid to interrupt lecture but the prof doesn’t mind. She’s super nice. I like that I can be an ice breaker for others.
My extreme anxiety and depression lately has really poisoned things between me and my partner. It sucks. I hope that after I get a new job and after I settle into his mother’s house, I hope we can salvage things. Because he’s a great guy, I don’t actually want to scrap this. I’d like to see about working on things again. But it’s been hard when I have no smile inside of me, no motivation to get out of bed, and nothing that is a positive or hopeful for me. That really messes with a relationship.
But on the very last remnants of this clonazepam, life looks easier again. Things make more sense. I don’t think my panic had really hit until the last day of work happened and I moved everything out. I’ve been fallen apart since then. I didn’t even know it was my last day of work until I got there. So that was like, not a lot of transitional time. Me & sudden change? Not so hot.
My self-identity was tied up in that a bit. I didn’t realize it, but I’ve been in a lost, gray world since then. I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted or what this was all about. I was just floating and lifeless and gray and foggy and fuzzy and in a gray nothingness in a way I can never hope to explain to someone not presently or recently experiencing it.
Moral is: Anxiety medicine will be my friend this week. Don’t feel shame. And don’t judge me, you. I don’t need it.
I need to be able to think clearly enough to apply for new, part-time work and pack up my stuff from the apartment.