Baby Steps in the Right Direction

It all starts with putting one foot forward. No matter how hard. No matter how much you want to turn around, and run, screaming, in the opposite direction.

Yesterday (Sunday) my mom called, telling me to come to their house so my dad could change the oil in my car. I felt overwhelmed with panic and anxiety immediately; I know my car needed this tune up, but for some reason, I was both terrified to visit my parents and terrified to leave Mike. The night before, he promised me that we'd spend the whole day together, not leaving one another. Yet first thing in the morning (well, 11 o'clock since we were up so late) I have to leave him. I didn't want to, every part of me was screaming in protest... but I did it.

And it was okay. It was more than okay, it was enjoyable.

At first I felt dizzy and panicked, and wanted to reach for my bottle of valium, but I somehow manage to rationalize and tell myself that if I could breath, if I could understand that things were okay, I could control myself and didn't need the medication; that is only for emergencies. It worked! I was even able to discuss my ER bills with my parents- most of what I'd been dreading- only to find out that not only do the not expect me to pay for all of it, but the bills together came to a mere $700! I mean, I don't have a spare 700 laying around, but I was anticipating them to be in the thousands; 700 is manageable, and that is a relief.

I controlled the drinking last night; I poured myself an allotted, reasonable amount, and then had Mike hide the bottle from me. Accomplishment #2.

This morning, instead of dashing to the kitchen to c/s or b/p or drink, or reaching for the pipe or painkillers, I got up and headed to the kitchen. While my cup of coffee was brewing, I got the sink full of hot water and dish soap, gathered all of the dirty dishes and put them in the hot bubble water, gathered all of the trash together, then grabbed my coffee and a yogurt and headed into the living room to play some video games while the dirty dishes soaked and the scorching water cooled. Oh, and before heading to the living room, I took a multivitamin, baby asprin, and Omega 3 fish oil pill. Good girl.

At intervals, I'd stop to give Emma, my cat, attention. Played til my yogurt and coffee were gone and was too frustrated to continue. Went to the bedroom, made the bed. Went to the kitchen, did the dishes. Grabbed the yucky bathroom trash can, filled it with hot bubble water, and cleaned the counter tops while it soaked. Scrubbed out the trash can, dried it off, returned it to the bathroom with a trash bag in it. Contemplated sweeping and mopping, decided I wouldn't have the time and would wait til tonight. Quickly gave my macbook a lysol-wipe bath and packed it. Got ready; brushed my teeth, washed my face, picked out my usual frumpy outfit of a too-large tshirt and yoga pants... decided to take a risk and wear a different tshirt, a sky blue one with bird silhouettes... so I could wear the adorable, rhinestone adorned baseball hat my dad brought back to me from NYC (the color of the shirt matches the hat). Put my make up on... and am satisfied with my appearance. Still hiding my body in loose clothing, but wearing my cute hat and brighter colors. I almost look cute... trying to not obsess over how large I seem to have become.

Made sure all the windows were closed, and other typical leaving the house stuff complete, grab my backpack, purse, phone, and keys, then head to school, but not before taking two valiums; it's pointless to not take them in this case, too many people, too much stimulation and no one safe to cling to = major anxiety. I stop at Loaf n Jug for a Vitamin Water Zero, and decide to take another risk and buy myself a Special K bar, which I ate on the rest of the way to school. So now I'm here, going back and forth between blogging and taking notes, sipping my vitamin water and anticipating the rest of my day: settling a traffic ticket, stopping somewhere to buy some more candles or scented oil plug-ins, perhaps go by Ross to buy a basket for our living room, where we can store the blankets that we like to cuddle under when we're chilling on the couch watching TV; going to see my psych at 3:45, being totally honest with him, coming home and sweep and mop, cook a great dinner for Mike, continue to tidy up the house (maybe have Mike vacuum while I run to King Soopers to pick up a new script), then perhaps encourage Mike to invite our friend Chad over for a game of poker; I'll exercise while they play, and then when Chad leaves, we'll take our nightly shower together, return to the couch nice and clean and relaxed from the hot water and clean smells, then play video games or watch TV until it's time for bed.

So I'm not sure that's how the day will go, but if it goes something like that, if I at least continue to take baby steps and not slip back... maybe tomorrow I can take a couple more, and a couple more the next day. I know there will be times when I stumble, or even step backwards... but as long as I keep going, maybe I can get to a good place. A place where I'm living, and not merely functioning at the low level I have been.

Four Months MIA and I'm back

Because I need to start getting through this shit.

The summer that should have been wasn't.

I thought starting a new job and moving in with Mike would make for an amazing summer. It didn't.

Don't get me wrong- moving in with Mike (the official date was August 10th) has been a dream come true. I love living with my best friend, my other half, my knight in shining armor. I love falling asleep next to him, I love waking up in the middle of the night and realizing he's there for me to cuddle with, and I that I can feel his warmth next to me before I open my eyes the next morning.

However, I thought my relationship with my parents would get better... but it hasn't. It hasn't necessarily gotten worse per say, but... I feel like they babied and over-protected me all of my life, then the day I move out, it's like, "see ya later, go be an adult now." I can understand their frustration with me, but this abrupt 180 has left me feeling abandoned. My mother, once so close to me, doesn't seem to have more than 5 minutes to spare with me... on the phone. On a Saturday.

Starting my new job nearly lead to a nervous breakdown and me quitting; how does someone with such severe panic anxiety work in retail?! However, my managers/coworkers have been understanding and try to mostly place me doing tasks instead of interacting with customers. Still, I get nervous. I'm terrified of people.

And let's take all of the medical problems. Since the beginning of August, I have had a kidney infection with sepsis, 3 urinary track infections, a cold, been stung by a yellowjacket, and somehow developed radial nerve palsy in my right (dominant!) arm... leaving me paralyzed/disabled. Oh yeah, did I mention all of this involved 2 emergency room visits, over 10 visits with my Dr. and a neurologist, and 8 medications? Yup.

The radial nerve damage will and is healing, and I should make a full recovery, but the disability and pain have made my life hell.

So, needless to say, my time MIA wasn't pleasant. And after all of that, I have shrunken my world to the point where I don't want to leave the house. I don't want to be around people. I have panic attacks on a regular basis. I can't sleep. Sometimes I become so paralyzed with anxiety I can't function. Sometimes I become so frustrated I cry until I can't anymore.

When Mike walks out the door to practice or poker night, I want to throw my arms around him and cry and beg him not to leave me. I want to, but I don't. He doesn't understand the overwhelming panic and fear I experience while he's gone. Part of me doesn't want him to; I want him to go, I want him to be happy and play music or poker without feeling guilty about me. So I don't beg him to stay... and I settle in for a night of personal horror. I'm willing to, for his happiness... but I shouldn't have to suffer while he's gone. So, after this past week, where I believe I experienced a 3 day nervous breakdown... I called my therapist for the first time in a long time.

We met today and discussed a lot of what I've talked about above. She believes I have agoraphobia, not just panic disorder. I've been dealing with it in a very dangerous way- drinking. I can't do that anymore, I'm terrified of what it will do to my body... it may kill me, and I know it. So I'm begging for her help, before it's too late, before I reach rehab or worse, the ER again. I see my psych on Monday, and we'll go from there.

She wanted me to think of a goal, something strong enough to help me (and her, and whoever can help) pull me out of this. I know what that goal is. I want to be a mom. Not just a mom to any baby, but I want to be a mom that is a mother to half me, half Mike. I know this is going to sound cheesy as ALL hell, and ask forgiveness ahead of time, but to anyone who has read the Twilight series (the movies don't count, they aren't as in-depth) I feel exactly the way about Mike as Bella does Edward. Me, nothing special, no specific/outstanding talents, shy, a loner, and lame... next to someone incredible, beautiful, unbelievable, talented in ways I couldn't dream of, awed by many.

All in all, I want my life to be what it should be right now- two young adults madly in love starting their lives together... minus all of the horrible issues the girl has.