Anxiety can make you feel all alone.

Take Two Xanax and Call Me in the Morning – Anxiety

It was bound to happen.

I woke up, per usual. Bed full of dogs and the sun slicing through the reckless breaks in my otherwise orderly blackout curtains. The dark was no longer upon me as my protector from reality. It was morning, and worse, it was a weekday morning, a Tuesday.

My phone, a usual pleasant greeting from friends, now buzzed as a reminder of the world on my nightstand. What could they want from me? What must I do today to remind them all that everything will be ok, when quite frankly, I am not sure of that fact myself?

Each person thinks that they are the only on in the group that doesn't have their llife in order.When I step out of that bed, I think, I am going to be stepping into a hole far worse than the one to Wonderland. This may be the express elevator to Dante’s Inferno.

Ah yes, the anxiety attack. Good morning, generalized anxiety, my old nemesis. Yes, it was bound to happen. Shit Jules, you lost your job a week ago and are forced day-after-day to go in there and face the whole thing for the next two months, who wouldn’t have some anxiety? Good for you for lasting this long without climbing into that metaphorical bell tower.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, thirty minutes. Staring at myself in that giant closet, covered in a mirror. I try to get at some of those texts. My dear besties, some need my help. I want to help, so I will reply. Try to reply. Let’s focus on the good things. I paid off some credit cards last night and got a full calculation of credit card debt. Not as bad as I thought it was. Not fantastic, but not bad. That did not include the medical debt, or the 401k loan I have to pay back by the 31st of May or incur over 3k in taxes.

Oh fuck Jules don’t think of that! Ouch, there is the anxiety again. That was stupid.Three anxious pups

Puppies are cuddled, let’s think of them. Truman needs to have his neuter done. Damn it, don’t think of that right now.

Why does everything lead to an anxiety attack? Let’s go back to thinking of nothing. Let’s go back to thinking of all the fucks I give about getting totally screwed over. Ahhh sigh, relief.

Let’s think about that bottle of Xanax in my night table. Pop, sip, smile.

Hot shower. Nice.

On the way to work, husband driving. I fall asleep. I wake up so disoriented that I believe we are already on our way home. I ask him, “What is taking us so long to get home?”

 

 

 

 

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