I lost the battle today.
Had a PTSD flashback after a call yesterday. Shook me up, but I kept
going.
Woke up this morning feeling ‘off’. Dove into work hoping I could get my head
right. No joy, took a couple of my emergency
‘anti-panic attack’ meds and it didn’t help either. I kept working and trying to push it away,
but my heart kept racing and I started shaking.
I had to bail out and take the attendance hit.
This hasn’t happened in over a year. Last time it was when I was in the hospital,
in the dark, and became obsessed with how scared Becca must have felt being
alone without me there, losing the battle with the melanoma. That’s when I discovered that hydroxyzine helped.
But not today. I got
out of the house and drove. I didn’t
even know what time it was when I left work.
Picked up Tea and then we drove some more. I’m still not at 100%, heck, I’m at 10% maybe. I’m hoping and praying this weekend will allow
me to build up some strength and I can hunt down and kill what ever is
triggering the anxiety.
And yes, rage can override
the anxiety for a while, but it isn’t good for me, and not constructive at
work, or at home. Tea and Tank both can
tell when I’m running on rage, and it doesn’t do them any good. So I have to rely on will.
Something I’m short of, having spent most of it today.
That’s the problem with chronic mental illness. Somedays I lose, most days I win, for
now. The battle is over, the war goes
on.
