Tired

Today was an extremely tiring day. Well, last night was too. Last night I couldn't fall asleep. It might be side effects from the Lexapro I just recently started. I have been extremely scared to take medication but have been suffering way too much lately to really give that struggle too much energy. Anyway, I've decided to start taking it in the morning instead of at night. Maybe that will help. On the plus side, I did not have to take a Klonopin yesterday to calm myself down! That's 2 days in the past 9, which is real progress. Prior to the start of this extreme increase in anxiety I rarely took the damn Klonopin...and I do mean rarely - maybe a dozen times in a year. Of course I was still anxious and worrying about the imminent death I was sure awaited me but it wasn't on this scale. This has been awful.

I've been realizing lately that I worry so much but when I actually start to do the thing I'm worrying about I worry less. LESS. It's so weird. So I've told the guy I'm seeing (Matt from here on out) that whole concept in an attempt to help force me to do the things I am avoiding. So we plan on a day away from the house. Since its a holiday I only have minor responsibilities: I had one in-person interview for the research project that I work for (interviewing a potential participant for the study), going to the farm to visit my horse as she was seen by the vet, and getting some reading done so I could prepare my lecture for the class that I teach (Psych 101). Matt and I planned on going to a movie, doing laundry, and whatever else we wanted. The interview went fine. The vet went fine except I felt like I couldn't remember to breath. I kept doing the breathing motions but feeling like I couldn't get in enough air. I came home, ate lunch with Matt, did some laundry, and we took a brief nap. I woke up EXTREMELY agitated and couldn't figure out why. After 10 minutes of pacing I realized my chest was burning and my lungs felt a little closed up. At which point the following internal dialog took place:


Oh, shit. I'm dying.
I can't breathe.
Why are my lungs burning?
I need my inhaler.
Nope, can't take the inhaler. I'm afriad of it.
But it helped last time and I didn't even panic.
But you COULD panic this time.
And what if you aren't having trouble breathing, then you'll be taking unnecessary medication.
If you keep taking unnecessary medication it could kill you.


Matt tries to talk some reason into me. My lungs are probably burning from being out at the barn and inhaling dust and hay and I DO have bronchitis and asthma. I should just take the inhaler. It helped yesterday and I didn't panic then.

And I think:

Oh, sure, Mr. Hotshot. Just go ahead and use your good-old logic on me.
You're too carefree to really understand that this time I'm really suffocating.


I decided it was best we left the house because like I said I tend to worry more if I'm not doing something I planned to do. Only I felt I couldn't sit through a movie, which we had planned to go to earlier. So we took the recycling to the dropoff. On the way, Matt kept bugging the shit out of me to take my inhaler. I finally did. The burning stopped almost instantly. About 5 minutes later my lungs felt more open. I didn't panic or freak out. In fact, since I was moving around I didn't even notice the usual little shakes. Suffocation foiled again.

We went to the mall to return some things and then I dropped him off at his house, which made me EXTREMELY nervous. Being without someone I can trust and talk to scares the crap out of me right now. But I did it. And made it home.

I started crying as soon as I walked in the door. I was hungry so made some food (I've lost about 7 pounds now in 2 weeks from this anxiety) and cried the whole time I ate it. I called Matt and asked him to come back over. I really wanted some comfort.

I CRIED SO HARD. I cried because I am sick of being scared. I am sick of the worries running the show, I am sick of not being able to enjoy anything, I am sick of needing/wanting someone around all the time, I'm sick of the physical symptoms, the weird sensations, the desire to run to the doctor for every ache and pain, the helplessness, the anger, the frustration. I am sick and tired of living this way. And damnit I am going to beat this shit because I can.

During my cry Matt and I talked a lot and I realized and released a lot of pain and sources of my anxiety. I hope to share that soon. For right now I have some more reading to do before I exhaustedly pass out.

"One pf the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one's work is terribly important" ~Bertrand Russel