This week has been rough, mainly this weekend. It started Sunday, when I felt like I couldn’t eat brunch. At least after I cried, I was able to eat dinner and then Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday I was fine. Thursday, I could feel something was going on. I thought it was sadness, considering that it was the first Thursday that I didn’t get to see my boyfriend in many months, and it still could have been.
Then Friday is when things went bad. I woke up about 6:30 in a panic. I felt the anxiety, but I pushed myself to go to work. I got there at 7:45 and by 8 I thought I would have to call up my dad to come and pick me up (he drove me considering my boyfriend was going to pick me up from work). Thankfully, it went away and I made it through the work day. I had my little duckie stress toy to help give me that strength and calmness and I had my tea. I couldn’t eat all my lunch though, even though I was hungry. I couldn’t eat all my sushi for dinner, cause I couldn’t eat (even though I was hungry).
So why did my anxiety come to visit? Well, I’m not sure. It could be the anxiety that I thought was going to be with me Monday by starting a new job, it could have been that I was worried that Jon wasn’t going to pick me up because I’m not used to having someone do that and didn’t want to be that new person just waiting for a ride while everyone else was leaving, and it also could have been that I’ve mistaken excitement to see Jon for anxiety. The feeling of excitement and nervousness go hand in hand. You get the butterflies in your stomach and of course when I feel that feeling my mind goes straight to anxiety.
I wake up Saturday in a panic at 7:30. I can’t go back to bed. I still can’t eat, but I push myself and go to the library to visit my old coworkers. My anxiety is still here, so it’s no longer excitement. So why is my anxiety high? I’m thinking now that it’s more of Jon’s sister being home now from college. I’m afraid I might say something wrong, that she might not like me, and that I have to be careful of what I do or say. I don’t know what to do, so I do what I do best….write. I wrote her a note to let her know what I was feeling and to reassure her too. I was able to eat a crepe after that….but barely.
Today, I was able to sleep in, I feel a bit better….but I still can’t eat that much. I’m hungry, but as soon as I eat my mind plays tricks on my stomach. The fear is there that my anxiety will come back and not let me eat or that I’m going to get sick if I eat (it’s even worse when I’m not at home). I’m focusing on the progress though. Instead of feeling about a 50, I feel about a 70. I also made a therapy appointment for the following week. I do enjoy seeing her cause not only is she knowledgeable in ways to help me, she’s seen me at my worse and can reassure me that this isn’t a set back. That this is just a new challenge for me and I will soon learn how to overcome it.
I know I will, but it takes time for my anxiety to go away and not tap me on the shoulder all day (or on/off all day). Considering I’ve made progress too, I do get frustrated with myself. I think, since I’ve come so far that I shouldn’t be having these attacks, that I should be able to just tell myself it’s okay like I used to and that they’ll be able to go away. Instead of focusing on the frustration, since that doesn’t help it, I need to focus on the good. That once I learn how to get through this “level” I won’t have a panic attack (or will be able to at least control it before it gets bad) when I “replay this level”.
I have worries, like tomorrow I’m afraid that my anxiety will show up at work considering how this weekend has been. That I won’t be able to eat during my lunch break. That I’m worried my anxiety will show up next weekend with Jon cause I’m getting tired of not being “normal” when we’re together. Jon tells me that I am normal and that anxiety isn’t going to make our time together suck. If it shows up while I’m at work, then it shows up while I’m at work. That if I can’t eat it’s ok, I will be able to soon. That while I am eating I can tell myself that my anxiety is just getting in the way and that if I do throw up it’s not going to be a horror, it will just be a hassle. I’m going to push myself to go to work, to make it through the day, that things won’t always be like this and it’s going to be great to have a routine again. It’s easy to say this now, while writing, but it takes awhile for those words “You’ll be fine”, “It’s just your anxiety”, “It will pass”, “Just let it come”, to work and for my mind to believe that.