I have anxiety from thinking of a million different reasons why my anxiety suddenly got worse. The simplest explanation is my anxiety did not suddenly get worse. It’s always been horrible so could I please shut the fuck up about it?
They all tell you it’s the anxiety that makes you drink. I can handle the anxiety. It’s the pain. Oh my god, the fucking pain. I almost forgot. I really wasn’t expecting that today.
The first time I got a good therapist, she was certain I had PTSD from my childhood. I didn’t even tell her half the shit! I haven’t talked about it since. I don’t think she was right. I didn’t know. I thought everything was normal. I thought everyone grew up like that.
Lately I’ve been putting myself on a tight schedule. I don’t have to do everything at the same time every day. But in the morning I line the day up. I set start times for everything. I don’t have a set limit for finishing but starting is exact. I usually pick the beginning of an hour. Not 5 minutes before. Not 2 minutes after. I’m usually pretty good at it and if I miss I’ll usually slide down to the next round number on the clock.
Coffee and breakfast is routine when I wake up. I keep times for that. Today was lunch at noon, exercise at 1 and check the mail at 2:30. That would be after the mailman came and I could get the whole week at once because I’ve been fucking up and not setting a time for mail.
I hit lunch fine and 1 was looking pretty good. I was waiting and N___ texted me and said she would help get me to the vax if I signed up. I told her I’ve been thinking of it but I can’t figure out where to start. She told me and it was very easy. I have an appt. for my first shot on April 20. It should have been easy but by the time I was done I was slipping. It was after 1 and I could just change my time to exercise but it wasn’t looking good. That’s okay, I’ve been pretty rigid with that. Even if I’m not wanting to do it, if can get it started on the hour I can finish. It makes me feel better because I breathe as slowly and deeply as possible and hold my form and match my movement to my breath.
2:30 mail call was a joke. Perhaps I was being a bit optimistic. By that time I had myself restrained in my bedroom, totally losing my shit. That’s usually reserved for 3pm. Leaving my apartment was not a good idea. It is 7 now and I am feeling better. Comparatively. Not go downstairs and check the mail better. Now I know and that will be a first thing tomorrow objective. (Hopefully I’ve already done it today because I am scheduling this for tomorrow; Sunday)
My last therapist was always telling me to “stay in the moment.” What if the moment sucks so bad you will do anything to get out of the moment? Stay in the moment… What is that supposed to mean? She’s too young to be a hippie. Mindfulness bullshit. Even when I do a guided mindful exercise, I’m doing it to concentrate on anything but the moment. I’m doing it right now. Writing helps me focus my thoughts. Even when I’m writing about my horrible day, I’m really thinking about the writing. Back when I was “in the moment,” This would have been impossible.