I have been working on admitting when I need help. This isn’t an easy thing; trust me. Asking for help = being weak. Being weak = being worthless. And I don’t need a whole lot more in this world to make me feel worthless.
So, what’s been going on, you might ask? Hell if I know. I mean, nothing really out of the ordinary. Except that everything seems off. Nothing seems secure. Nothing seems stable. No matter what I do, I feel like I fuck up. Truthfully, some things I *do*. But other things, even when I do them right, seem to get all FUBAR on me. That’s led to a whole bunch of anxiety. All the time. Like, all the time. I feel totally unable to complete a task. Totally overwhelmed. If my ability to handle things is normally at a 4 (on a scale of 1 to 10), I have been at a 9.5 for weeks now. And there doesn’t seem to be any relief in sight.
At first I thought it was the stress of my job. I’ve had several fairly big projects that have taken up a lot of focus and I dismissed the feelings and thought it was just temporary. But it isn’t. I am still waking up at ungodly hours of the night. I’m still having nightmares. I’m still having heart palpitations.
So… at this point, I realize I’m in over my head. I realize that things aren’t getting better for me. I realize that I need help.
I confessed this frustration to a friend of mine and shared that I was so concerned about weakness. That *this* makes me weak. That *I* am weak. And she talked me down a little. No…. I’m not weak. It’s a chemical imbalance. She explained it all very well. All scientific. I’m just out-of-balance and I need some assistance to get back in line. Not weak. Not crazy.
I haven’t gone into the doctor, yet. I will be, soon. Just knowing that I’m not totally losing my mind has given me back some power. Just knowing that I am not “weak” has allowed me to regain some control. Just knowing that there is light at the end of the tunnel has given me hope. And in the last 48 hours, it’s made all the difference.
I’m still feeling edgy and panicked. But I slept well last night for the first time in a while. I had good dreams. Calm dreams. Nice dreams. And today I am ready to keep a hold of that feeling. I’ll try again, today, to keep ahead of the game.
“Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day, saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow.'” ~Mary Ann Radmacher