I started to write this happy post about how much I love Amy Poehler and Tina Fey and how SNL is the only thing I can count on to make me laugh each week. I started to write that post in an attempt to squash the serious anger and down right hateful feelings I'm having this morning, but as you can see from the few words I've typed just now, coupled with the title of this post, I've swerved off that road of avoidance and have slammed head-first into a post of madness.
I am SO mad. I am SO frustrated. I am SO tired.
I've been going to a psychologist for how many weeks now? I feel like I'm not making any progress. In fact, I am starting to wonder if I'm getting worse? Now I think I'm starting to have panic attacks at night when I try to go to sleep. At first, I thought it was an effect of the Nasonex I take twice a day (once in the morning, once right before bedtime). I've had several episodes where I turn out the light and snuggle down in bed only to realize 20-30 minutes later that I'm a complete mess. I can't describe it, but it feels like someone's injected an insane dose of caffeine directly into my brain. My arms, legs, heart, lungs - everything - feels like it's on crack. I've never done a drug in my life, but I swear this must be what it feels like and I HATE it. In fact, I typically hate medications in general. Advil and Tylenol are the only medications that don't treat me like crap. The rest of them make me jittery and crazy.
But this...this seems to be coming from within...and I can't think of anything scarier at the moment. Last night I got PISSED. I was laying there feeling like I had enough nervous energy to explode. I got up a couple of times to try and break the cycle (which didn't work). I got water, I sat up in bed, I tried to ignore it. Nothing worked. (Eventually, I fell asleep, but it wasn't because I was able to calm myself down. I don't think it's a conincidence that this doesn't seem to occur on Friday or Saturday nights.) That's when I got pissed off. I started to think about work and what it has done to me. I quickly go down this spiral of hate. I hate my job, I hate that people here don't know what this has done to me, I hate what it's done to me, I hate that everyone else in the free world doesn't know what has happened to me, I hate that my very own family doesn't understand or seem to take it seriously, and I hate that it's made me a person that no one wants to hang out with. At least that's how it seems to me.
***NOTE: I wrote the above on Monday. It's now Tuesday. It was even making me mad to write yesterday so I stopped mid-post. I'll finish the entry today, Tuesday, now that I'm feeling better. Let me add that my sweet husband sent me these yesterday which improved my mood dramatically. Also, we bought a whole mess of bedroom furniture from Restoration Hardware after work and I got new shampoo and conditioner from Aveda as well. Ah, the simple smell of Aveda is enough to relax even Secretary Paulson. ***
I went to therapy this morning and spilled my hatred for my job (or the phones specifically). My therapist says that my job is like an abusive husband that I just can't seem to bring myself to leave. She's so right. It's exactly like that. Without the phones all would be fine - but the phones are torture. They're an uncontrollable and unpredictable monster that's been following me around for 3 years. She talks a lot about me needing to learn to give myself permission to do things. Whether it be to leave my job, try working for myself, even buying furniture or picking a paint color. I seem to freeze when I have to make certain types of decisions. It's super annoying.
She thinks I need to start thinking about setting a "last day" here at work and I'm on board with that. It's a little troubling to think about that right now and commit to it since I have no real job prospects, but I'm willing to give myself a date right now and hope that after the elections I'll have a better idea about where I'm headed (or not).
That's the date that I want to set me free. It would make my short-term dreams come true if that was my last day here (job or not), I could have 2 weeks off at Christmas and know I don't have to come back to this job. I could refresh myself and hopefully look forward to the next job. That's the only gigantic question mark at this point. The plan sounds great - except I don't want to cause any financial stress in our household. When I started saying things that suddenly pulled the rug out from under that date, my therapist said "NO. You can't do that." and I wanted to cry. She was nice about it, but firm, and that was a first. I guess I need some tough love. Seth and my mom will allow me to flex on that date because they are worried about money (and should be to an extent). BUT, I'll get another job somewhere - but until then I'm going to mentally latch onto December 19th and look forward to it as my day to start over.
I changed my mind, I decided posting this clip just can't be skipped. Have you seen anything funnier? Amy Poehler is 3 weeks from her due date and she's busting rhymes like no other. HA! Love it!