Gah. I made the mistake of drinking Pepsi late yesterday evening and the caffeine has woken me up in the middle of the night. My left knee is aching terribly. Despite this, I am mentally running a marathon. I have cut back considerably on coffee consumption during the day to avoid causing myself more than the usual amount of anxiety. Now I am cursing my own stupidity.
I am also extremely restless on this new medication. My fight or flight has always been set to flight. As of late, it is constantly a cameo and sometimes decides to usurp the starring role in the little film called my life. This is not helpful in a call center position where I am essentially tethered to a computer for 8 hours a day. I take anti-anxiety meds, they are not helping. I need to start exercising outside of work, which I agree would ease the anxiety a tad. But it’s certainly not a cure-all.
So instead I write diatribes in the middle of the night and think about how much work is still to be done in the garage. I’ve been here a month tomorrow and the amount of stuff I need to purge is still overwhelming. Anyone want a snowglobe? Or perhaps a snowman, I seem to have an army of the things.
I also love the bipolar disorder and the associated lack of sleep. It exacerbates the anxiety a great deal. Because when you have more time awake, you have more time to worry about things. Like migrant children in detention centers and all those implications. Like Medicaid expansion in Idaho. Like whether I’ll make it working full-time long term or if I will lose it one day. Those sorts of things.
I need EAP. Desperately, desperately. I have become desensitized to many types of calls but some of them still get to me. I also have these lovely pre-existing mental conditions which make stress hard to cope with. So my hopes of working in any other type of call center are essentially dashed. I would really excel at a job concerning documentation but am having a hard time finding one that I am qualified for.
So I sit in limbo. I would love to have a writing career but since I mainly write weird stuff in the middle of the night, I don’t think that will happen. I need structure. I need to come home from work and actually work on my side pursuits instead of becoming a potato. I need to write about the things I watch as well, that film blog is really just sitting there like a dud. I also need to READ A BOOK. Like the kind that I checked out from the library that is sitting unopened by my bed. Maybe it will inspire me to, I don’t know, write my own book or something.
I start writing books, get 25 pages or so in, and then stop. It seems to be a metaphor for my life. Now I’m going to go look at jobs I don’t have the guts to apply for and maybe try to figure out how to exercise without waking the entire household. I guess I could take an Ativan and sleep. Instead, I will likely make more coffee and continue to wig out.
Anxiety Says, "I Told You So." 