Getting through the day

I guess my job hunt is over. After 4 months it seems I do not belong anywhere. No one wants to hire a person who can only work when they feel up to it, which is about one day a week, who can’t sit at a computer for more than a hour without breaking out into a crying jag. I can not seem to focus on anything for more than 15 minutes at a time, and doing that drains me out. I’m smoking like a chimney. I hate it. At times I realize I have 3 going at the same time. Who does that? Someone who can not focus on the moment at hand, someone who can not seem to get their mind gathered into one space.

I heard someone say once that you should not live for someone else. You should be living for yourself. Although I think for the normal person this is good advice. For a person like me, not so much. Admittedly, if it were not for my daughter and granddaughter (who I see about 3 times a year) I probably would figure out a way not to have to live like this. Admittedly, I am living for them, not for me. This is a miserable existence, but I can not be selfish enough to inflict undue pain on them which I know would ensue.

So for now I will continue to wake every morning, God willing,  and spend my day one minute at a time fighting the imaginary bugs crawling on my skin, the sensations of suffocation, the overwhelming sensation of fatigue, the nausea, blurred vision, daily headaches, the floating out of my body experiences, chest pain, body aches, flu like symptoms, feelings of worthlessness and uselessness, crying jags, and so on. I just do not know what else to do.

I have also discovered that it seems like my minutes are longer than the rest of the world’s. One minute to me sometime feels like a hour. I have heard people say they wished there more more than 24 hours in a day. They should be struck down dead as far as I am concerned. If they could only walk in my 24 hour day they too would beg for less not more.

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I need….

I need to find a job that I can do from home to get out of debt so I can change my living situation.

I need to change my living situation so I can get some peace.

I need to become as self centered, self absorbed and self serving as the person I am living with now… alone.

I need to find a way to accept the fear of death I have when the body sensations take over, to accept that I am going to die sooner or later and there is nothing I will be able to do about it so when I am living alone once again I can accept that if I die, it’s for the best.

I need to get my affairs in order better so when that moment comes I am not fighting it.

I need to accept the fact that I am gullible and although very intelligent, very stupid too.

I need to accept the fact that I will never overcome this condition, stop fighting it, and hiding from it.



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What on earth is wrong with the world?

I am blessed to live on a hillside surrounding a lake. One day after 3 days of down pour rain my daughter who was quite little at the time asked me, quite seriously, what we would do if the lake got deep enough from the rain that it came up the the house. Since this was not a remote possibility because we lived so far up the hill my answer to her was that we would need to lock the doors because an awful lot of people would be looking for a place to live and our house was not that big.

I think about that conversation a lot these days. With the terrorism occurring around the world what’s to say that something happens to cause the outflux of people living in the cities to the countryside? Unless you are a gang member in one of these cities they will not have a chance against the marksmanship of country people. My husband was a city dweller all his life until he moved here. Our culture infuriated him for the first 4 years he was here and he is still trying to adjust. Do they think they are just going to pack the sedan and move out here? Most city dwellers that do buy a home and move out here find themselves jammed up with in the first 6 months. They don’t buy enough food for emergencies like snow storms. They do not have the skills to prepare for the unpredictable and we have to rescue them in some fashion.

A trip to the grocery store is becoming a panic attack in the making. Its costing me fifty dollars a week more every time I go. There are things I could be doing that I have not been doing seriously over the last couple of years that is going to change. I will be hovering over my garden this summer like a mother hen. I will not be buying any veggies in the store next winter. I will be using everything more efficiently. I will be making my own broths from leftover veggies and meat carcases, my chickens will become more free range this summer to cut back on feed costs.

I am determined to become even more self sufficient than I already am. I am going to pay off bills this year, and save enough to atleast run half this place on solar and wind power. When the world final shits-the-bed I want to be ready. I am done listening to the news every day wondering when the ball is going to drop. I am going to live assuming it already has.

Country folks are generally well armed. Many are seeking pistol permits. I do not need a pistol permit to take your eye out, I have a pellet gun (among other larger gages), when I get done you will wish I did have a pistol permit. I am done laying in bed worrying about the world and what’s going on. I will put myself in a place where it will be the least of my worries.

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Moving Forward

It has been 21 days since I quit my job.

I have only had 3 panic attacks in 21 days vs the daily multiple attacks I was having.

I have several high anxiety attacks per day, but not to the degree leading to panic.

I find it easier to push through some listless/exhausted moments brought on by anxiety now that I know that if I need to rest …I can.

I find the freedom of not being accountable to anyone or time, liberating and relaxing.

I have been so busy addressing activities around the house that I could not find the motivation to do before that I have suddenly found I do not have enough hours in a day.

I have lost a inch off my waist.

I am smoking less.

I have to trust that the universe agrees that quitting this job was in my best interest, and will open doors for funds to pay my bills. I have begun a project painting barn quilts. My first project came out pretty well. This quilt depicts a bunch of grapes with our local lake in the middle as vineyards surround the lake and 2 bottles of wine. Wine is what this region is famous for. Its is drying waiting for a gloss coat. I think it’s pretty good for a newbee  :). I have also had an offer from a local market to show and sell my creations. Hope is in the air.




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So as luck would have it my boss has been sending me emails about what a lousy job I was doing, about one every day or so…for months now. Instead of having the balls to fire me, she keeps telling me how others have to go behind me and review my work and how unfair it is to them. So, I fixed the problem for her, I like to fix problems. I quit.

I have a 13 page resume. I have never, ever, quit a job without giving notice…until last Tuesday. The 4 paragraph email sent to me was insultive, degrading, belittling and bordered on bullying. I might have my issues…but I draw the line at “looking down your nose at me”, period. I finished out the day, sent a very nice email explaining I would be done that day and my activity log and time sheets were to follow.

Although I have had moments of anxiety, I have not had a panic attack in a week. I have had a few crying jags this week, but not all day episodes, nor were they everyday, all day as before. I can not believe I put myself through all that for 8 months.

Now its job hunting, or finding something I can make a few hundred dollars extra a month at. I’m pretty crafty, perhaps developing a craft skill is on my plate.

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The Doctors Appointment

There is nothing like seeing a psychiatrist that knows less about your condition than you do.  This will be short and not so sweet. His advice to me was to go on utube and watch videos related to anxiety and panic control, to download self hypnosis mp3’s and gave me a page from Amazon with cleat attachments for my shoes when he learned I had fallen 25 years ago and broke my neck and fractured my skull. He would not give me medication due to the addictive possibility. Thank God my leg was not broken and I was in any pain….. For the record-I have never taken anything for my anxiety or panic. I was offered years ago, but declined because the problem was not so severe, now that I need it…I can not get it. He would rather see me jump off a bridge.

My profession is embarrassing. This doctor was clueless. Lately there has been media attention to the high suicide rate among veterans. Now you know why.

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Current Events

About 3 weeks ago now I was folding the dog’s blanket and suffered sudden extreme arm fatigue while at the same time pain across my chest from interior mid arm to interior mid arm. “OMG! What is this?” my overactive, anxiety ridden brain screamed. “This is new!” it said. My reality brain said, “it’s just muscle spasms from being hunched over your computer for 8 hours a day for the last 4 days, and stretching out just got all these muscles excited”. Anxiety brain says, “But, what if……”. And so the cycle began.

As the sudden weakness in the arms and legs continued to occur over the last few weeks at times when I tried to use my arms my anxiety brain was in full drive. “What if the doctors missed something when they did the cardiac cath last March?, What if this is lung related? What if the loose bone in my neck from a previous neck fracture has moved and is pinching my spinal cord? What if this has something to do with my previous skull fracture?” Reality brain…becoming weak from the fight begins to get on board, “Well maybe….”

Anxiety brain has won again. By last Friday reality had all but gone out the window. Off to the ER that has previously sent me home to die a few times before with misdiagnoses I went. The first missed issue was a gallbladder problem, they sent me home 3 times telling me it was anxiety, I almost died. Took 8 surgeries to fix that over 6 months. the second time was when I had the pulmonary embolism. Sent me home 4 times telling me I had anxiety, only to learn I had a blood clot in my lung. How ironic I am forced to continue to interact with a group that have no idea what they are doing, and expected to get some comfort in their words of assurance that its just anxiety.

They overdosed me on medication that was supposed to help, and I spent 5 days in bed trying to recover from the effects of “Help”.  Out of that visit came some encouragement when the ER doc made some phone calls and made arrangements for me to see a real doctor in behavioral health rather than a social worker. Not that she is not helpful, but I think a few Xanax are in order to get my system calmed down and she is not licenced to help me in that department.

So I wait a week to see the MD.

….to be continued…..

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