I know it's been a long time since I wrote here. I actually haven't had much of a public presence at all for months.
To be honest, I was in a very dark place. I didn't have the energy to pick up my computer and write anything here. It might've helped me work out some issues. But I just couldn't do it. I was drained physically and emotionally. My physical health was declining rapidly and my mental health followed.
The doctors still can not find out what's wrong with me health-wise. It's frustrating as most of my time is spent waiting. To see certain doctors, I often have to wait 2-3 months for a first appointment. They don't consider my health an emergency. So day in and day out, as sick as I am, they don't care.
I think I just finally snapped. Felt I had no hope anymore. I became horribly depressed. I was ready to accept that this is my life and I wanted to just sit back and let it take over.
I can't really say what changed. I don't know why I finally pulled myself out of that dark place. But I am working on it. I won't say that I'm all better. That would be a lie. When the sickness hits, of course I get emotional. I'm frustrated, I'm sad, I feel pathetic and hopeless. Moments like that probably affect anyone with a chronic illness. And I need to stop beating myself up when I feel down.
And I need to remember to get back up again each time I fall down.
I have renewed strength. I'm determined to fight.
I'm going to be pretty busy with the holidays coming up. I usually love Christmas and I want to make this a good one. Even if we can't afford a ton of gifts. I'll still decorate and cook and bake as much as my body will allow! And I'll try to pop in on here more often.
I want to thank all of you who have contacted me in the past few months asking if I was ok. I am grateful to know I am thought of and worried about. I'll try not to scare you all again like that!
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Depression doesn't discriminate
By now, I'm sure you all have heard about Robin Williams and his suicide. I thought long and hard about writing about it. I wasn't sure if it was right. Respectful. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. Especially when I started hearing the negativity.
Depression and mental illness doesn't discriminate. It doesn't care if you're rich or poor. Your race, your religion. Your upbringing or your genetics. It doesn't care what you do for a living. It doesn't even care if you're an honest and good person.
I know not every understands that level of depression. The very most bottom of rock bottom. Or what it feels like to go even lower than that. People say it's selfish. People say it's dumb. Maybe people just don't understand.
Depression doesn't discriminate. But people do. People judge you by the clothes you wear. By the jobs you do. By the house you live in. And by your mental state.
I won't sit here and say that what Robin Williams did was ok. I can't condone suicide. But I can't say it was wrong either. Just sad. Sad that anyone could hurt that much. Could see no other way. And it's not just him I'm sad for. Not just the famous ones. I feel for the average person who struggles day by day.
Depression doesn't discriminate. And neither should we.
I ask of you to do this. Smile at a stranger. Compliment them, help them, be kind to them. You never know, maybe they are at rock bottom too and that simple smile shifts something. Maybe even saves a life.
If you are suffering from depression, please know you aren't alone. There's such a stigma around mental illness. But you are NOT alone. There's websites, forums, friends, family, therapists, and even me.
Yes me. I will listen. I won't judge. Because I've been there.
Robin Williams, may you finally find peace. And may the world grow more understanding of mental illness and depression so people can come out of hiding and say, "I need help," without fear. The help is there. And it doesn't discriminate either.
Depression and mental illness doesn't discriminate. It doesn't care if you're rich or poor. Your race, your religion. Your upbringing or your genetics. It doesn't care what you do for a living. It doesn't even care if you're an honest and good person.
I know not every understands that level of depression. The very most bottom of rock bottom. Or what it feels like to go even lower than that. People say it's selfish. People say it's dumb. Maybe people just don't understand.
Depression doesn't discriminate. But people do. People judge you by the clothes you wear. By the jobs you do. By the house you live in. And by your mental state.
I won't sit here and say that what Robin Williams did was ok. I can't condone suicide. But I can't say it was wrong either. Just sad. Sad that anyone could hurt that much. Could see no other way. And it's not just him I'm sad for. Not just the famous ones. I feel for the average person who struggles day by day.
Depression doesn't discriminate. And neither should we.
I ask of you to do this. Smile at a stranger. Compliment them, help them, be kind to them. You never know, maybe they are at rock bottom too and that simple smile shifts something. Maybe even saves a life.
If you are suffering from depression, please know you aren't alone. There's such a stigma around mental illness. But you are NOT alone. There's websites, forums, friends, family, therapists, and even me.
Yes me. I will listen. I won't judge. Because I've been there.
Robin Williams, may you finally find peace. And may the world grow more understanding of mental illness and depression so people can come out of hiding and say, "I need help," without fear. The help is there. And it doesn't discriminate either.
Thursday, August 7, 2014
Been some time - Medical stuff
I haven't been here in quite a while. Honestly, I haven't been on my computer much at all in the past couple weeks. I've been dealing with medical stuff.
First was the endoscopy. That was a horrible experience. I wasn't sedated enough before the procedure. I found myself choking and gagging and crying as this tube was shoved down my throat. Naturally, I fought against it. Tried to turn my head. And this led to injury. I was in a lot of pain for many days after. Because the tube had rubbed all down my throat and esophagus. They biopsied some stuff in my stomach too. So that hurt as well. Eating and drinking was difficult.
My mom had taken me and she was a big help with the anxiety before the procedure. I felt safe. Which is good, since I wasn't allowed my Xanax before hand. No food or water for at least 12 hours.
But after... they wouldn't let me see my mother in recovery. In fact, the hospital staff pretty much rushed me out of the hospital as quickly as humanly possible afterwards. I think they wanted to avoid a scene. I didn't get to see my mom until they had wheeled me out to her car. I got in and told her how it went and I cried. Oh my mother, she wanted to punch someone and she's the least violent person I know!
Recovery was difficult. And once that was done, it was time to prep for the colonoscopy. I'll spare you the details. It's not fun. They give you this drink to clean out your colon and I was on a liquid only diet. I went 38 hours without food.
My boyfriend took me, but he was not allowed in the prep room or recovery. And I know he was very upset about not being able to hold my hand before, as my mom did with the endoscopy. Thankfully, I was allowed to take Xanax this time so I managed the anxiety ok considering.
This procedure went better tho. I had the same doctor perform it and he remembered the last time, so he doubled up on the sedatives. The room swam and I told the male nurse, who was giving me the meds, that I loved him. Then I fell asleep. I woke up once, in a fog, feeling pain and I may or may not have cried out. Next thing I knew, I was in a different room. Woke up, went back to sleep. Woke up again. Knew for a fact that I was indeed in recovery. I could've gone back to sleep but decided to wake up and get the heck out of there. Who wants to stay longer than they need to in a hospital? Plus, I needed to get back to the boyfriend. It had been over an hour and I'm sure he was flipping out.
I had more biopsies done. And days later, I am still in pain. Those sedatives did a number to me too and I slept for the most part of two days. But I prefer that to being awake during it!
I have another test this monday. Imaging. I have to not eat again, and then drink barium (yuck) and have some images taken of my insides. Then we shall finally see my doctor again and go over all the tests.
I hope they find something. I hope this is all over soon. Or it could still just be beginning. Who knows. None of this has been easy. A part of me wanted to just pretend I was ok and avoid these tests. But I can't do that. I can't hide anymore and pretend I'm not sick. I need answers. We need answers. It's not fair to my loved ones anymore. It's not fair to me. I want my life back. And I'm hoping that we're on the right track.
First was the endoscopy. That was a horrible experience. I wasn't sedated enough before the procedure. I found myself choking and gagging and crying as this tube was shoved down my throat. Naturally, I fought against it. Tried to turn my head. And this led to injury. I was in a lot of pain for many days after. Because the tube had rubbed all down my throat and esophagus. They biopsied some stuff in my stomach too. So that hurt as well. Eating and drinking was difficult.
My mom had taken me and she was a big help with the anxiety before the procedure. I felt safe. Which is good, since I wasn't allowed my Xanax before hand. No food or water for at least 12 hours.
But after... they wouldn't let me see my mother in recovery. In fact, the hospital staff pretty much rushed me out of the hospital as quickly as humanly possible afterwards. I think they wanted to avoid a scene. I didn't get to see my mom until they had wheeled me out to her car. I got in and told her how it went and I cried. Oh my mother, she wanted to punch someone and she's the least violent person I know!
Recovery was difficult. And once that was done, it was time to prep for the colonoscopy. I'll spare you the details. It's not fun. They give you this drink to clean out your colon and I was on a liquid only diet. I went 38 hours without food.
My boyfriend took me, but he was not allowed in the prep room or recovery. And I know he was very upset about not being able to hold my hand before, as my mom did with the endoscopy. Thankfully, I was allowed to take Xanax this time so I managed the anxiety ok considering.
This procedure went better tho. I had the same doctor perform it and he remembered the last time, so he doubled up on the sedatives. The room swam and I told the male nurse, who was giving me the meds, that I loved him. Then I fell asleep. I woke up once, in a fog, feeling pain and I may or may not have cried out. Next thing I knew, I was in a different room. Woke up, went back to sleep. Woke up again. Knew for a fact that I was indeed in recovery. I could've gone back to sleep but decided to wake up and get the heck out of there. Who wants to stay longer than they need to in a hospital? Plus, I needed to get back to the boyfriend. It had been over an hour and I'm sure he was flipping out.
I had more biopsies done. And days later, I am still in pain. Those sedatives did a number to me too and I slept for the most part of two days. But I prefer that to being awake during it!
I have another test this monday. Imaging. I have to not eat again, and then drink barium (yuck) and have some images taken of my insides. Then we shall finally see my doctor again and go over all the tests.
I hope they find something. I hope this is all over soon. Or it could still just be beginning. Who knows. None of this has been easy. A part of me wanted to just pretend I was ok and avoid these tests. But I can't do that. I can't hide anymore and pretend I'm not sick. I need answers. We need answers. It's not fair to my loved ones anymore. It's not fair to me. I want my life back. And I'm hoping that we're on the right track.
Saturday, July 19, 2014
Had quite the manic outburst today. They have become rare in the past 5 years. But wow they were they ever present in the past. Real violent fits. Guess that's why I dated a guy who abused me. Cuz I could beat him back. I could throw shit at his head and it was normal. We'd tackle each other with knives in our hands. Smack each other. I used to stab holes in the walls of my childhood bedroom. I had so much rage. So much hurt. And no outlet. Except my photography.
Maybe I need to find my way back to that. Because I do carry rage. And guilt. And I have no place to let it go. My therapy isn't covered by my insurance.
So I lashed out. And it sucked. I don't want to be that messed up girl I used to be. I don't want to be lost. I don't want to be angry anymore either.
God help me find the way out of this pit. This was rock bottom. I hurt the one I love most in this world. I don't want to be that person.
I hope all these tests find something so they can fix my body. Once it's fixed, I can fix my mind too. Because 3 years has been long enough. I want to take my life back. And it won't be easy. It won't be fast. But I'll change. Same as before. I was a normal, healthy functioning person once. I can be that again.
Maybe I need to find my way back to that. Because I do carry rage. And guilt. And I have no place to let it go. My therapy isn't covered by my insurance.
So I lashed out. And it sucked. I don't want to be that messed up girl I used to be. I don't want to be lost. I don't want to be angry anymore either.
God help me find the way out of this pit. This was rock bottom. I hurt the one I love most in this world. I don't want to be that person.
I hope all these tests find something so they can fix my body. Once it's fixed, I can fix my mind too. Because 3 years has been long enough. I want to take my life back. And it won't be easy. It won't be fast. But I'll change. Same as before. I was a normal, healthy functioning person once. I can be that again.
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
Productive Day
Today was a good productive day. In spite of all the comments that I woke up to today calling me an alcoholic panhandler, begging for money to support my "addiction."
First let me say that I have emetophobia. A fear of vomiting. Do you know what alcoholics do? They drink till they throw up. So guess what I don't do?! Bingo. One drink. Not even every day. Not during the day. Not in the mornings. Not until I'm drunk. Not even until I'm buzzed.
See, my doctor decided today that he didn't want to refill my anti-nausea medication anymore. I found this out today at the pharmacy when they said they never heard back from the doctor. Apparently, since I saw a specialist once, and had zero tests done, that the doctor should know what's causing my nausea by now and that I don't need the pills. You're freaking kidding me right??
I don't know what healthcare is like where some of you live. Other countries. Even outside of California. But here, the free healthcare is a damn joke. And I can't afford other healthcare because I have pre-existing medical condition which means they can charge me $600 a month if they so wanted. So, free healthcare it is! But all the doctors who accept this healthcare are over booked since now everyone was forced to get health insurance. They had to change the requirements for free health care so more people could get it. People like me. I've only had the plan for a few months now. But let's just say it's a pain in the ass. The only doctors I could find are a half hour away at least. In traffic, more like an hour.
Anyway, so I was at the pharmacy, trying to get my pills and had to call the doctor and that's when they decided I don't need the pills. The pills that I have been on for 3 years so I can eat! The pills that don't cure the nausea but take the edge off a little so I can get nourishment.
Now I have to find another doctor. I know of one that will give me the pills but she isn't covered by my healthcare and will cost $60 to see. We'll have to scrounge up some change and take in the recycling so we can pay it. But whatever we need to do, we'll do so I can have those pills. Irvin told me so. He won't let me go without. And I love him for it.
So once I dealt with that fiasco, I managed to run other errands and get everything done on my list for today. All of it! 4 different places and I didn't have a panic attack once. My mother, who helps me run errands once a week because no one wants me driving when I now black out and faint or am taking Xanax, was very proud of me. Even of how I handled the whole pharmacy pill fiasco.
Finished the grocery shopping, had lunch, did the dishes. Now it's time to give my duck a bath. And then get dinner going.
I want to thank my friends, fans and family. I was strong today because of you. And my mom. Thank you mom for reminding me that I'm a good person, with a good heart, who may have thin skin, but it comes with being mentally ill. And also she flat out told me that if she thought I were an alcoholic, she'd smack me and ground me. I'm 31 and taller than her, but she's Japanese, so I don't doubt for a second that she would ground me. Probably take away my video games or something and make me stare at the wall.
You haters may be trying to break me down. But guess what, all you did was anger me. You don't get to win. You won't break me. Because I know who I am. I know what's in my heart. I know the physical illness that plagues my body. And I know the mental illness that seeps into my soul. You empowered me.
And from this point on, non-constructive comments will be deleted.
I want my fellow suffers to come back out of hiding and continue to share their stories with me. With us. With this blog. We will talk of our hardships and our triumphs. We will share tears and laughter. But we will not judge here. We will not insult. We will not break down those who are already suffering. YOU will not break down someone who is already suffering. I won't let the dozens of people who emailed me with their stories to have to deal with it. I will be the barrier. I will speak out for those who haven't found their voices.
First let me say that I have emetophobia. A fear of vomiting. Do you know what alcoholics do? They drink till they throw up. So guess what I don't do?! Bingo. One drink. Not even every day. Not during the day. Not in the mornings. Not until I'm drunk. Not even until I'm buzzed.
See, my doctor decided today that he didn't want to refill my anti-nausea medication anymore. I found this out today at the pharmacy when they said they never heard back from the doctor. Apparently, since I saw a specialist once, and had zero tests done, that the doctor should know what's causing my nausea by now and that I don't need the pills. You're freaking kidding me right??
I don't know what healthcare is like where some of you live. Other countries. Even outside of California. But here, the free healthcare is a damn joke. And I can't afford other healthcare because I have pre-existing medical condition which means they can charge me $600 a month if they so wanted. So, free healthcare it is! But all the doctors who accept this healthcare are over booked since now everyone was forced to get health insurance. They had to change the requirements for free health care so more people could get it. People like me. I've only had the plan for a few months now. But let's just say it's a pain in the ass. The only doctors I could find are a half hour away at least. In traffic, more like an hour.
Anyway, so I was at the pharmacy, trying to get my pills and had to call the doctor and that's when they decided I don't need the pills. The pills that I have been on for 3 years so I can eat! The pills that don't cure the nausea but take the edge off a little so I can get nourishment.
Now I have to find another doctor. I know of one that will give me the pills but she isn't covered by my healthcare and will cost $60 to see. We'll have to scrounge up some change and take in the recycling so we can pay it. But whatever we need to do, we'll do so I can have those pills. Irvin told me so. He won't let me go without. And I love him for it.
So once I dealt with that fiasco, I managed to run other errands and get everything done on my list for today. All of it! 4 different places and I didn't have a panic attack once. My mother, who helps me run errands once a week because no one wants me driving when I now black out and faint or am taking Xanax, was very proud of me. Even of how I handled the whole pharmacy pill fiasco.
Finished the grocery shopping, had lunch, did the dishes. Now it's time to give my duck a bath. And then get dinner going.
I want to thank my friends, fans and family. I was strong today because of you. And my mom. Thank you mom for reminding me that I'm a good person, with a good heart, who may have thin skin, but it comes with being mentally ill. And also she flat out told me that if she thought I were an alcoholic, she'd smack me and ground me. I'm 31 and taller than her, but she's Japanese, so I don't doubt for a second that she would ground me. Probably take away my video games or something and make me stare at the wall.
You haters may be trying to break me down. But guess what, all you did was anger me. You don't get to win. You won't break me. Because I know who I am. I know what's in my heart. I know the physical illness that plagues my body. And I know the mental illness that seeps into my soul. You empowered me.
And from this point on, non-constructive comments will be deleted.
I want my fellow suffers to come back out of hiding and continue to share their stories with me. With us. With this blog. We will talk of our hardships and our triumphs. We will share tears and laughter. But we will not judge here. We will not insult. We will not break down those who are already suffering. YOU will not break down someone who is already suffering. I won't let the dozens of people who emailed me with their stories to have to deal with it. I will be the barrier. I will speak out for those who haven't found their voices.
Enough with the drama - here's my health update
For those of you who are actually following the story, I suffer from Chronic Illness. And I'm not talking about the bipolar disorder or the panic attacks. Physical illness that leaves me too sick to work. To do much of anything really. I am nauseous 24/7. My bones ache in places I never knew possible. And yes, it's embarrassing, but also bad diarrhea. I faint from a lack of certain vitamins because my body can't get nutrients when you throw everything up. I also suffer from exhaustion (I just fall asleep randomly and was NEVER able to nap before due to the bipolar disorder), black outs and memory loss. I can not drive a car as it's unsafe in case these things happen behind the wheel.
So I finally saw a specialist yesterday. Why has it taken me 3 years to see one? Because I lost my health insurance when I lost my job. And I lost my job because you can't work and keep running to the bathroom.
I so far have done 3 separate blood tests (7 vials of blood taken each time), 3 different stool tests, and had x-rays. Now lined up is an endoscopy, a colonoscopy and an ultrasound.
Hopefully at least one of those tests tells us what's wrong. Now of course, I am nervous about these procedures. But they must be done. So I can get better. For 3 years, I've been living half a life. I want the whole one back. I want to work and socialize and be productive. I want to give back to society again.
It's going to a be a long hard road folks.
For those of you sending me good thoughts, money for my psychiatric care (that my free health insurance refuses to cover) and those of you commenting, sharing and emailing, I thank you. I will always thank you.
When this is all done, we need to celebrate!
So I finally saw a specialist yesterday. Why has it taken me 3 years to see one? Because I lost my health insurance when I lost my job. And I lost my job because you can't work and keep running to the bathroom.
I so far have done 3 separate blood tests (7 vials of blood taken each time), 3 different stool tests, and had x-rays. Now lined up is an endoscopy, a colonoscopy and an ultrasound.
Hopefully at least one of those tests tells us what's wrong. Now of course, I am nervous about these procedures. But they must be done. So I can get better. For 3 years, I've been living half a life. I want the whole one back. I want to work and socialize and be productive. I want to give back to society again.
It's going to a be a long hard road folks.
For those of you sending me good thoughts, money for my psychiatric care (that my free health insurance refuses to cover) and those of you commenting, sharing and emailing, I thank you. I will always thank you.
When this is all done, we need to celebrate!
I wanted to make this a safe place for people to come together and share their stories of mental health problems and overall life problems. But then the hate mail started
Worse than that, I started getting emails from people who wanted to share their stories on my blog, until they read how judgmental people can be. They asked me to take down their own stories and not post their personal struggles because they fear they will be hated on too.
This is a very sad thing for me as that's not what I wanted. I wanted to connect with others. I wanted a safe place where we could tell each other "you're not alone." But I don't think it's meant to be.
I don't think people understand that my photos, my journals, my blogs... they are just pieces of me. Windows into moments of time that create a life. They are not a whole life. They are pieces. And sue me if the sad stuff is more inspirational to me to write about, to photograph. But if you know me. If you're on my facebook. If you've talked to me. You'd know. I'm not a damn victim and refuse to ever be one. But even more so, I refuse to let these people turn my friends into fodder. I put myself out there KNOWING that people will hate on me. But my fellow bloggers who tried to reach out, did not ask for the drama.
So I thank those of you who contributed to the blog and I am sorry that you no longer want me to post your stories publicly, but I do hope you know you can still email them to me and I will reply.
PS, I apologize for a lot of typos and wrong words and such in my entries. I've been using my phone to post on here cuz it has internet. Just can't use a ton of data because my mom pays that bill and I don't want to go over the limit! But it's darn hard to type a journal entry out on a bloody phone ;p
Worse than that, I started getting emails from people who wanted to share their stories on my blog, until they read how judgmental people can be. They asked me to take down their own stories and not post their personal struggles because they fear they will be hated on too.
This is a very sad thing for me as that's not what I wanted. I wanted to connect with others. I wanted a safe place where we could tell each other "you're not alone." But I don't think it's meant to be.
I don't think people understand that my photos, my journals, my blogs... they are just pieces of me. Windows into moments of time that create a life. They are not a whole life. They are pieces. And sue me if the sad stuff is more inspirational to me to write about, to photograph. But if you know me. If you're on my facebook. If you've talked to me. You'd know. I'm not a damn victim and refuse to ever be one. But even more so, I refuse to let these people turn my friends into fodder. I put myself out there KNOWING that people will hate on me. But my fellow bloggers who tried to reach out, did not ask for the drama.
So I thank those of you who contributed to the blog and I am sorry that you no longer want me to post your stories publicly, but I do hope you know you can still email them to me and I will reply.
PS, I apologize for a lot of typos and wrong words and such in my entries. I've been using my phone to post on here cuz it has internet. Just can't use a ton of data because my mom pays that bill and I don't want to go over the limit! But it's darn hard to type a journal entry out on a bloody phone ;p
Monday, July 14, 2014
Inspirational
I don't really believe in a higher power. But I love this video and this message just the same. I cried tears of pain and tears of joy for this strong woman. I guarantee you that she still has bad days. Times when her past pains catch up to her. But she's facing it head on. You go girl.
https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=470736836295471&set=vb.100000774768296&type=2&theater
https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=470736836295471&set=vb.100000774768296&type=2&theater
Post by Dakysha Sullivan.
Getting Ready
I'm seeing a GI doctor today. A specialist to figure out what's wrong with my stomach. The first step of many to find out what's wrong with me. I know that if I get my physical health back in shape, the mental health will follow.
But I'm not looking forward to it.
I ate breakfast today. And let me tell you why that's a big deal. When I know that I have to leave the house for an appointment or to run errands, I don't eat first. Because food makes me sick. And with my phobia and all, that terrifies me. I don't want to get sick stuck in public. So I don't normally eat until the errands or whatever is done. But my appointment today is very late in the afternoon. So I knew I had to eat something. Because going that long without eating will just make things worse.
Did I mention I hate doctor offices? Not only because most of the time, the doctor is not helpful. But also that I hate the waiting rooms. Anxiety plus being stuck in a tiny room, with poor ventilation, and a bunch of sick strangers hacking all over the place... Well it's not fun. And I've been warned that this office is slow. So I'll be stuck in a personal hell for at least 45 minutes to an hour. I'll take a book to read, but I'll probably just read the same sentence over and over again.
Also, this particular waiting room has no restroom. When I get panic attacks, I have to pee. Nervous bladder I guess. And it's like an every 10 minutes type of thing. Anyone else get that? Have to pee when you're anxious? Even when I know I need to leave the house in like 30 minutes for something, sometimes the peeing starts then. I keep going and I'm not even drinking anything.
I don't mind it as much once they put you in your own exam room. I feel better without the strangers and their germs and their judging eyes. Let's face, you're having a panic attack, and you're trying to appear normal and fine, but it's so obvious that you're not. And people notice. They stare. Stop staring at me! Read a bloody magazine. And for goodness sake, cover your mouth when you cough!
I got about an hour before we have to leave. It'll be a long drive in bad afternoon traffic and it's hot as hell out today. I know I'll survive this. But I don't have to like a single minute of it!
But I'm not looking forward to it.
I ate breakfast today. And let me tell you why that's a big deal. When I know that I have to leave the house for an appointment or to run errands, I don't eat first. Because food makes me sick. And with my phobia and all, that terrifies me. I don't want to get sick stuck in public. So I don't normally eat until the errands or whatever is done. But my appointment today is very late in the afternoon. So I knew I had to eat something. Because going that long without eating will just make things worse.
Did I mention I hate doctor offices? Not only because most of the time, the doctor is not helpful. But also that I hate the waiting rooms. Anxiety plus being stuck in a tiny room, with poor ventilation, and a bunch of sick strangers hacking all over the place... Well it's not fun. And I've been warned that this office is slow. So I'll be stuck in a personal hell for at least 45 minutes to an hour. I'll take a book to read, but I'll probably just read the same sentence over and over again.
Also, this particular waiting room has no restroom. When I get panic attacks, I have to pee. Nervous bladder I guess. And it's like an every 10 minutes type of thing. Anyone else get that? Have to pee when you're anxious? Even when I know I need to leave the house in like 30 minutes for something, sometimes the peeing starts then. I keep going and I'm not even drinking anything.
I don't mind it as much once they put you in your own exam room. I feel better without the strangers and their germs and their judging eyes. Let's face, you're having a panic attack, and you're trying to appear normal and fine, but it's so obvious that you're not. And people notice. They stare. Stop staring at me! Read a bloody magazine. And for goodness sake, cover your mouth when you cough!
I got about an hour before we have to leave. It'll be a long drive in bad afternoon traffic and it's hot as hell out today. I know I'll survive this. But I don't have to like a single minute of it!
Sunday, July 13, 2014
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