Panic in the ladies room

I don’t feel very funny today.

Despite all of the pep talks I gave myself, the drops of CBD, I still had a mild panic attack at work during the all staff meeting.

I found myself hiding in the bathroom in an attempt to pull it together. Thankfully, by the time I came out, it was pretty much over.

I try to take care of myself- get enough sleep, eat well, exercise, journal, etc.

However, the worst thing about mental illness (for me) is knowing you need to do those things but having no motivation to do them. Or you want to do them, but you also don’t want to potentially end up in the bathroom having a panic attack and/or anxiety poops, so you opt to go home because you just can’t handle it at the moment.

All you want is to be somewhere where you are comfortable and safe.

I swear to God, arguing with myself to do something I know I need to do while in the midst of a bout of depression or anxiety is like trying to get a tired toddler to cooperate. I have to get some snacks to keep on hand for my bratty inner child. She is a HUGE pain in the ass.

It took awhile for me to get to feeling better- even after we were back in our office. Thankfully, my work BFF had returned after catching dysentery, well, kind of getting over it. He’s still in recovery.

…okay, so it’s not actually dysentery but it’s what I imagine it would be like, based on the information he provided me. There seem to be so many diarrhea inducing illnesses- how do you tell them apart?!

Anyways, it was nice to have my BFF sitting in his rightful place across from me. He gets me. Josh is one of those people that I immediately warmed up to- something just clicked instantly. When he’s gone, it’s kind of like I’m missing a limb. Or a penis (are those considered limbs?!), because I swear he’s the male version of me- you see where I’m going with this.

With the meeting over, going back to my desk, eating something for breakfast, and having Josh back was the sense of normalcy I needed for my anxiety to quiet down. But because all I wanted to do last night was come home and sleep, I didn’t stop by Dillon’s to pick up something for lunch today. I also didn’t prep my overnight oats.

…this did not help my cause.

A KIND bar, yogurt, and microwave mac and cheese wasn’t enough to keep me going. I needed real food. I seriously have to stop tempting fate when I know it probably won’t end well based on every time in the past that I did the exact same thing and had a less than stellar outcome. Sigh.

That trip to the gym after work I wanted to make didn’t happen. I knew I needed food right before my shift ended because I felt a meltdown brewing. By the time I was halfway home, there were no doubts about needing to hit up a drive thru- Taco Bell it was.

…thus how I ended up with taco crotch.

What is taco crotch? It’s when you’re starving and decide to try to eat a taco while you’re driving (even though you know it’s definitely a terrible idea) and end up with bits of taco landing on the crotch of your pants. You may even have to scrape some melted cheese off of your crotch if you’re lucky.

By the time I pulled into the driveway, I felt much better. Home is where I am comfortable. When I am comfortable, I have way less anxiety or none at all. Which is why I appreciate the people I love so much- they are comfortable and safe. They love and look out for me.

I can just be me when I am with them.

I’ve tried to avoid getting on medication for obvious reasons, but I think it’s time to start considering it. I feel like if I can get myself to the gym regularly, it would help my mental health tremendously. And my bra, because these boobs are trying to pop out. The last thing I need is to have to buy new bras with cups the size of a toddler’s head.

When I used to work for a clinic, I would see patients bring someone in with them for support. Sometimes that support would be the one checking the patient in or even making follow up calls. I always wondered why the patient couldn’t do it all themselves.

And now I know.

On my bad days, I’m extra grateful that the kid and I live with Dad- I’m realizing that sometimes I need help, too. I don’t always have a lot of energy or motivation. Also, I have never been a huge fan of cooking, so I never complain about coming home and finding supper is ready.

But it’s nice to know there is another adult looking out for my kid. My mental health hasn’t ever been an issue when it comes to taking care of him, however, on days where I don’t have much to give, I have help if I need it. It’s a huge relief.

Speaking of relief, it’s almost my bedtime- and I definitely need some sleep. A lot of sleep.

More blog posts to come 🙂

Published by amberalice

Kansas Native. Knitter. Amateur photographer. Lover of love, plants, and great burritos.

Leave a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: