Monday, November 10, 2008
So I spent all of last week and the weekend being the sickie. I finally started to get some energy back yesterday and pulled myself together enough to come to work today. I decided to take care of me and get to bed very early. I got in bed at 9:15. That is insanely early for me. I figured after my first real day of any kind of exertion (cleaning, laundry, cooking) I'd be wiped out. So I got in bed, I turned on my TV which is my routine. I was watching House which was maybe a little too interesting for me to fall asleep to. I changed over to CSI because I've pretty much seen every episode 15 times and I can tune it out. No good. I switched to a VOD movie that I've seen numerous times. No good. I was feeling jumpy, antsy and anything but tired. I turned the TV off. BIG mistake. "What was that noise?" "What was that sound?" Turned the TV back on and put on the digital music channel of Soundscapes which is as relaxing as relaxing gets. I layed there and did my breathing, did my relaxation "chanting" (which I do silently in my head as I breathe). Still feeling very jumpy. Rolled this way and that way, tried to get comfortable. Even (confession time) put my hand inside my pillowcase grasping a small potential weapon I keep inside of it, because I was feeling so frightened. Sometimes having that in my hand lets me feel protected enough to calm down. It's now 11:45 and I'm climbing the walls. I'm being plagued by unpleasant thoughts and the sound of my heart beating inside my head is so loud, it's making me nauseous.
I've had a prescription bottle of Xanax for almost 2 years now and I still have 2/3 of it. I almost never take it. But I decided the only thing for me to do at this point is to take one. This is fast approaching critical panic attack levels and I will never sleep if I don't have some assistance. So I take one and go back to bed. They usually work in about 20 minutes or so. I lay in bed and decide I need to conjure images of safety. My safe place. What's my safe place? New Hampshire. And what pops into my head? An image of my ExBF and I laying in bed together in NH. Where I felt safe. And that safety was such an illusion. Yet I long for that feeling despite the fact that it was a fantasy. I miss the days when I felt like I could be myself and lean on someone else. What I would not have given last night to have his strong arms around me and be able to feel that sense of love and security. I feel betrayed by my own brain that it would throw this image at me. And I feel like I want to sob til the well of tears dries up but I can't let it out. I fear if I start, it will never end. So I angrily shake that image away and try to bring back something else.
I'm hearing noises and feeling some strange way I've never felt before and I start seeing images of skeletons and a devil. I can't make them stop. I'm terrified and think something is so different about how I'm feeling right now. I convince myself that something pivotal is about to happen and then, of course, I fear I'm dying because I'm seeing images reminiscent of death. I'm dying....and I'm going to hell. These figures plagued me for what seemed like hours though, in reality, it was probably only about 20-30 minutes. I was scared to allow myself to fall asleep and I let my brain run away with the storytelling it does....that I will die in bed and DD will find me and not know what to do or how to get out of the house and will forget how to call 911 and she'll be stuck there with my rotting corpe for days trying to snuggle up to it or wake it up. Oh the pleasantries I think about. It was a horrible, horrible night.~
On the bright side, I'm feeling alright. I'm back at work. My eye only has one little red dot left in it. I heard back from the eating disorder clinic. My insurance will cover 100% of the partial residential program which is 5 days a week from 9am - 2pm. That would be ideal and it's what I will push for. It gives me time to drop DD off at daycare and get to the center. And it gives me time to get to the office and work for a few hours the end of each day. I go for my assessment interview next week. I made them schedule it at the end of the day because I recall it being emotionally draining.