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A Day in the Life of Me

A Life Dealing with Anxiety/Depression

Dealing with my PTSD

MONDAY:

Have you ever had one of those mornings that your intuition was to stay in bed because everything that could go wrong, would go wrong?

Woke up this morning and decided that I was going to have a great day no matter what. So, I prepared myself by putting my combat boots on and pulled up my big girl panties. Unfortunately, combat boots fell apart and the elastic in my big girl panties snapped. This is going to be a shitty day.

Got my coffee ready so I could have some quiet time before getting ready for work. Spilled the coffee grounds while making my coffee and then proceeded to spill half of it down the front of me when it was done. At this point I should have called in sick and went back to bed to start again tomorrow. But no, I decided I was going to get through today no matter what.

Half way to work, I started crying over I don’t know what and then proceeded to have an anxiety attack. Pulled into a parking lot and sat there trying to calm myself down.

Meanwhile, Mr. Police Man decided to see what I was doing at 6:30 AM in the parking lot just sitting there. I’m used to being humiliated, so it didn’t bother me too much when I rolled down the window and faced the cop with mascara running down my face. I guess it’s a good thing that men get fidgety and they don’t know what to do with themselves when women cry.

But, being the stubborn woman I am I proceeded to drive to work once I was calm enough to drive. Now I’m sitting in my car in the office parking lot crying (again) and trying to convince myself to go in. Finally get myself in the office and washed my face.

The rest of my day went something like this:

Ton of emails requests for documents that needed to be done before lunch. Spilled my coffee on my keyboard (that’s coming out of my paycheck), got yelled at by one of the managers for, well, I still don’t know what he was talking about. Was interrupted so much that I couldn’t get my work done and ended up working through lunch and I had to work late.

By the time I got to my car that evening, I was a complete mess and didn’t know if I could sit through traffic to get myself home, my safe place. Don’t really remember the drive home, just the crying and wondering why I was the way I am. Luckily, I was finally home and I went straight to bed only to wake from a night terror a few hours later. Tomorrow, I’m calling in sick.

TUESDAY – FRIDAY:

See above, but without spilling my coffee every day.

If you haven’t figured it out yet, I deal with PTSD.

The day I described is just one of many that I deal with. Having to deal with it every day is very exhausting emotionally, mentally and physically. But somehow I wake up every morning and try again. I can’t decide if its strength or stupidity. I’m guessing it’s stupidity.

After awhile of dealing with PTSD you get used to the same responses when someone finds out. “Every one has had a tough life and we get through it without breaking down.,” or, “You just need to suck it up.” Etc.

Then there is what I say to myself.

“You’re weak. What is wrong with you?” and it gets vicious from there. Even though you are used to it, it still doesn’t mean you don’t want to punch someone in the face, including yourself.

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