I was doing better, focusing on the positive atleast. yet it is all still so fragile.
The other day I fell asleep during the day in the living room chair. Is what chilly (snowing here!!) and I was all curled up in my snuggie with my cat purring on my lap, & being a bit tired I fell right to sleep lol. There was a knock at my door. At first it didn't wake me up. My heater is insanely loud, you can't even like hear the tv over it. So it must have kindof disturbed me but not quite woke me up. The second knock was louder and scared my cat who jumped off my lap- which made sure I was awake lol
I didn't answer the door. I froze as if a deer caught in headlights. Scared terrified...by a knock. I went to the bathroom, closed the door. My hands were shaking so badly and I just cried.
It wasn't too important, I guess some plumbers were here to fix something in the building and I am assuming they just wanted to let me know the water was being turned off for a bit. I assume as I didn't answer the door.
Admitting this incident is almost as painful as when it happened. I am embarrassed, ashamed. I feel stupid. It wasn't like it was a serial killer- I didn't think it was either. It was just a person. And another person seeing me, seeing my messy house, idk. It was terrifying for me.
I didn't tell my husband it happened. I kept silent all day- cried myself to sleep making sure to go to bed before him. I knew he would look at me with that confusion- not being able to understand. Not getting it. Acting like it is something silly and saying its no biggie to answer the door. It could have been important. He won't mean to hurt me like that but his words will hurt.
That is one reason I like blogging so much. There is such freedom to it. I don't have to sit in silence letting it build up inside of me. I can release it and set my words free. Let it all out in this open, honest space.
I can see that I can't do this alone. I need drugs. It is kindof this strange circle when it comes to the fact that I am so afraid that I need to be put on medication to deal with it, yet being too afraid makes it really really hard to ask for and then get help.
I have to get my insurance updated first. IDK they messed something up when we moved and so it still has my address listed wrong. I tried updating it and was told only my husband could and to do so he needed to fill out some form from his job. Well I keep telling him to bring it home and he keeps forgetting.
But I think he might just not want to at the same time. He hates his job and wanted to quit and/or be demoted. Either way it is going to probably be quite a loss in pay. So he talked about dropping the insurance all together to save money..... Hello I am a diabetic and need to be put on meds for that and my anxiety disorder. We need the insurance.
He keeps telling me that if he quit his job that I would need to get one. I know that. I want to work. Oh so bad do I want to work. But I can't leave my apartment without a 20 min peptalk and having a panic attack the entire time. I need to be put on meds before I can do that. I see the plan in my head- visit a doctor, get a prescription, then once they start working- find a job.
ofcourse going to the doctor also means facing that I have not been sticking to my diabetic plan or being healthy and it makes me feel like a failure. I was doing so good- a star patient then poof I stopped.
But I don't tell my husband any of this. I don't talk about it. I sit in silence, swimming in my grief.
I know I need to talk about it. I just know it will probably be bad. We will fight somehow. So instead I stick my head in the sand and hope it will all go away...I will let you in on a secret... it doesn't go away. No it thrives there in the silence, eats away at you. Makes you feel worse each day.
I have to face it. Be brave. Put on my big girl panties and talk about it, try to fix it. Try to move forward. I just keep trying to stay focused on the other side. Down the road, into the future. I get on meds and it can really help me not have this yo-yo of feelings, and have a fighting chance at dealing and moving forward.
The other day I fell asleep during the day in the living room chair. Is what chilly (snowing here!!) and I was all curled up in my snuggie with my cat purring on my lap, & being a bit tired I fell right to sleep lol. There was a knock at my door. At first it didn't wake me up. My heater is insanely loud, you can't even like hear the tv over it. So it must have kindof disturbed me but not quite woke me up. The second knock was louder and scared my cat who jumped off my lap- which made sure I was awake lol
I didn't answer the door. I froze as if a deer caught in headlights. Scared terrified...by a knock. I went to the bathroom, closed the door. My hands were shaking so badly and I just cried.
It wasn't too important, I guess some plumbers were here to fix something in the building and I am assuming they just wanted to let me know the water was being turned off for a bit. I assume as I didn't answer the door.
Admitting this incident is almost as painful as when it happened. I am embarrassed, ashamed. I feel stupid. It wasn't like it was a serial killer- I didn't think it was either. It was just a person. And another person seeing me, seeing my messy house, idk. It was terrifying for me.
I didn't tell my husband it happened. I kept silent all day- cried myself to sleep making sure to go to bed before him. I knew he would look at me with that confusion- not being able to understand. Not getting it. Acting like it is something silly and saying its no biggie to answer the door. It could have been important. He won't mean to hurt me like that but his words will hurt.
That is one reason I like blogging so much. There is such freedom to it. I don't have to sit in silence letting it build up inside of me. I can release it and set my words free. Let it all out in this open, honest space.
I can see that I can't do this alone. I need drugs. It is kindof this strange circle when it comes to the fact that I am so afraid that I need to be put on medication to deal with it, yet being too afraid makes it really really hard to ask for and then get help.
I have to get my insurance updated first. IDK they messed something up when we moved and so it still has my address listed wrong. I tried updating it and was told only my husband could and to do so he needed to fill out some form from his job. Well I keep telling him to bring it home and he keeps forgetting.
But I think he might just not want to at the same time. He hates his job and wanted to quit and/or be demoted. Either way it is going to probably be quite a loss in pay. So he talked about dropping the insurance all together to save money..... Hello I am a diabetic and need to be put on meds for that and my anxiety disorder. We need the insurance.
He keeps telling me that if he quit his job that I would need to get one. I know that. I want to work. Oh so bad do I want to work. But I can't leave my apartment without a 20 min peptalk and having a panic attack the entire time. I need to be put on meds before I can do that. I see the plan in my head- visit a doctor, get a prescription, then once they start working- find a job.
ofcourse going to the doctor also means facing that I have not been sticking to my diabetic plan or being healthy and it makes me feel like a failure. I was doing so good- a star patient then poof I stopped.
But I don't tell my husband any of this. I don't talk about it. I sit in silence, swimming in my grief.
I know I need to talk about it. I just know it will probably be bad. We will fight somehow. So instead I stick my head in the sand and hope it will all go away...I will let you in on a secret... it doesn't go away. No it thrives there in the silence, eats away at you. Makes you feel worse each day.
I have to face it. Be brave. Put on my big girl panties and talk about it, try to fix it. Try to move forward. I just keep trying to stay focused on the other side. Down the road, into the future. I get on meds and it can really help me not have this yo-yo of feelings, and have a fighting chance at dealing and moving forward.
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