So it finally happened. I thought it was there but I didn't think it would come today. Or perhaps I did.
I didn't cycle to work yesterday because I felt bad. I didn't cycle today either because I felt....uninspired.
For the past few days I've not had an appetite which is really odd for me.
I've not slept well in well over three years but for the past few days it's been even worse.
I've felt capable but also like I had caught a heavy dose of anxiety and depression. I ended up having to leave work today. I went to my doctor and of course I broke down, in tears, barely able to speak.
I'm on a mental health plan. That should make me feel better right away now, shouldn't it? What it means is that because my doctor diagnosed me with high levels of anxiety, stress and depression I'm allowed to claim some of the cost of the counseling I so apparently need on Medicare. Thank Christ for that! It's going to cost $150 and I will get back $80. Don't ever get mental health problems unless you're rich enough to afford it. It costs an arm and a leg (and probably whatever else they can get off you).
But here I am. I'm a "survivor" of two abusive marriages. I'm raising a learning disabled child. I feel capable, no I know I'm capable, and I know I'm good at my job. I know I'm smart and I have finally begun to realize that I, contrary to what my lack of self esteem used to tell me, am worthy of and can have friends. Yes, some people actually like me. I inspire some people. I advice people. I motivate people. I help people. I lead people. I feel better about myself than I have in freaking decades. I am all that and yet I am now going to see a psychologist because something in me is breaking. Something is making me anxious and sad. Something in me is unwell and needs help.
I can reason with all this. I can even see how this has happened. I can sense it at work. I can make sense of it. I can almost feel the chemical imbalance in my brain that's causing this. I can do all that and yet there's something about it that's a mystery to me.
Right now I want to be wrapped in cotton, be surrounded by lovely animals and people, paint something (not something sad and terrible but something beautiful because that's how I feel) and I just want to sit and watch the sky. I want to slow down for a bit. And I want to keep that worried look I saw in my boss' eyes when I told her I was leaving early today. She looked like she cared. The Sharpei cared. Somehow that gives me hope. Don't quite know why.
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