I Sit Here Waiting

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Listening to Lady Gaga on the office radio.

Nice.

I don’t even know the name of this song.

Love, love, love I want your love.

Oh. She just said it.

Bad Romance.

I’m surrounded by senior citizens in a doctors office listening to Lady Gaga belt out Bad Romance.

Does this strike anyone else as odd?

No?

Okay! How about this.

I cannot be trusted with scissors.

I had this seriously long errant thread on my dress that just had to go.

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Navy blue version of this dress

It drove me nuts the entire time I was Skyping with Mike. (Who made it safe for anyone wondering. After 48 hours of flying. More later.)

So after arriving at the doctor’s office for my first appointment with my new therapist, I asked at the check in desk if I could possibly use a pair of scissors really quick to cut it.
No worries, people. They had scissors.

However, she had to cut it.

Okay, then?

You do that.

Thankfully there was a lining to my dress and I could hike the lace overlay skirt over the counter for her to cut it. She didn’t even lean over or anything. Took her about seven tries to actually cut the string.

Yes, I am going to take those dull ass scissors and go ballistic up in this joint. The Lady Gaga was just too much and sent me right over that perilous edge.

Gah. There is a Disney resort mug I want to take a picture of but someone just sat in front of it.

Sass. I can never escape the place, can I?

I just listened to a mom explain to her child, that pollen is the stuff that makes people sneeze. As if it was just dust or something. On the same ranking as something that is made up dead hair and skin follicles

Her allergies must suck.

Onto more positive things, I guess.

Mike (gah, is it hard to not say Chairforce. It is even in my autocorrect dictionary!) landed safely like I said earlier. Took over forty eight hours of flying and that does not include layovers. I feel so bad for him.

Qatar is seven hours ahead and he Skyped me about twenty minutes before I was supposed to leave for my doctor’s appointment. But we did get to talk for about fifteen minutes before I left.

He has to walk a mile to do laundry.

Half a mile to use the bathroom.

And half a mile in a different direction to shower.

I feel bad for him but I know he is excited to get away and just kind of relax without school or Disney.

I’m home now. My head is screaming. I spent fifteen minutes just looking for Excederin.

Joan is the name of the therapist. She is tiny and up there in age. And I was correct. There was a reason they are referred by first name only. They are Licensed Social Workers, not a psychologist with a doctorate. Which in my ignorance didn’t realize were the therapists most people interact with. Did seem off. I asked about a psychologist, “we have those! Er. Not really.” Maybe she will be able to help?

Oh, my head hurts. Jeeze.

Anyways. I’m home. I have homework. I won’t be seeing Joan for another three weeks. The first available appointment. Like it is intense. Some of these social workers are booked past the first of the year!

Well, I have to go make dinner now. I hope everyone is well and doing great.

Posted from WordPress for Android. As much as I try to proof read, typos and grammatical errors will more than likely occur and I hope you can graciously forgive them and me.

Tiny Little Things

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So things are still on a downhill slope. Where do I start?

Let me disappear for a second and find out where I left you off.

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Okay. So to start off.

Work

Work is not happening. I have called in every shift for the last two weeks. I get severe panic attacks at just the thought and I cannot drive let alone for an hour to even try working the shift. Thus, I just give up – give in – and call in. There is no idea as to what is going to happen. I had an emergency visit with my psychiatrist to see if he could excuse me or put me on medical leave. He wrote a general excusal note but did not put me on medical leave. I only mentioned it the once and I guess he forgot to readdress it at the end of the appointment. The only thing that changed was I am now on Xanax twice a day and I was suggested to quit Disney and get a job that didn’t involve coworkers or patrons. Where the hell is that?

I have come to the conclusion that I feel like all of my medication is failing me. My emotions are no where near stable, my anxiety is out of control and my obsessive tendencies are on the rise.

So, I spoke with one of my managers Thursday night as I had a shift Friday just to see what should I do, what could I expect. And all he could suggest was to call Health Services and see if I cannot get an appointment with them and possibly have restrictions or medical leave induced.

Well.

I called.

And was denied assistance and was immediately transferred to a therapist who then immediately jumped into trying to force me into self committing myself into a ten day program.

I never mentioned suicide. Or any of my diagnoses besides my anxiety.

I was informed by another separate party that I could only be committed if I was suicidal. And I would never deny having suicidal thoughts. I do have those. But I have never attempted to act upon them or self harm in general.

So I just said I would speak to my parents about it and tried one more time for an appointment with Health Services and was once again turned down. After that, I simply ended the call.

While speaking with my Cigna Healthy Pursuits Coach, Becky, yesterday she helped me conclude that I don’t feel like I am in control. And when I don’t feel like I am in control is when I give up any control or stability I may have had left. She also suggested I go get a physical and see if maybe there isn’t anything physically wrong with me. That is an idea but the idea terrifies me. Beyond simple past experience, the money as always makes me jittery.

I have an appointment with a new psychologist tomorrow to see if that helps. “Joan”. I find it slightly funny. The psychiatrists are reffered to as Dr Last Name. The therapists are referred to by their first name. Which is very awkward for me. It seems very informal and slightly disrespectful.

Makes me wonder if they actually have their doctorates. The office does refer to them as therapists only as opposed to psychologists.

Outside of all this?

I was pretty fine.

I don’t know if any of you wonder why I haven’t named or even nick named my coworker turned friend since he has made his entrance to my posts. Well for one! His real name is so damn common I nickname all of them. Michaels. So many in the world. And another his nickname is one that would offend unless you know my military backstory with my family and our friendship. I call him Chairforce cause he is in the Air Force reserves. My family is Navy based. So… Chairforce.

I’ll call him Mike to limit the possible insult-ability.

So, Mike is a good friend. any chance he can he tries to get me out of my house. Distract me from everything going on and still push my comfort zones just that little bit to get me working on my anxiety a little at a time.
My friend Sassy doesn’t like that but we face our anxiety in two very different ways. And that is fine. We are two different people with different needs. After I explained it to her in a bit more detail she understood a little better.

He tended to call me every day during his drive to school from work and then from school to home. So he was hearing about everything that was going on first hand. Even as he is making his arrangements for his deployment to the desert he worries about his friends. My friend RL (red lipstick), has become slightly MIA amongst her own problems and he worries about her. He worried about me and even Sassy if she was having a bad day.

His solution for my anxiety was the last day before he left was to surprise me with a day… Somewhere.

Wouldn’t tell me where.

Or even when.

Just “you’re going to love it”.

Eventually he would give in and give me hints. Birds (he loves birds), I could get wet (so no dresses and wear a bathing suit), and it was in Orlando.

And there would be horses.

Horses? Where the hell are horses in Orlando besides Disney’s Triple D Ranch? And I know he wasn’t taking me to Disney.

Turns out it was SeaWorld. He bought me a day pass after we had some Dim Sum for breakfast.

He managed to talk me into going on all three rides (whoa) and feeding sting rays and dolphins. The dolphin feeding was easy and I really enjoyed it.

The sting rays?

Terrified me.

They felt weird.

They smelled.

And were… Kinda mean.

“Give me the shrimp! *splash*”

We did the entire park excusing the water shows in about four hours. Just spent the day relaxing and walking around.

We ended the night with dinner at the Turf Club. For once my drink somehow managed to be stronger than his. He almost always gets a rum and coke made with Bacardi 151. (Can I get an ick?) And I know now to order a mojito with Sprite. Somehow mine was stronger.

I now pinch myself when I didn’t buy his drink. It was going to be his last for at the very least a month and I should have after all he did.

One day I will do things when I should and not regret not doing them later.

Over all it was a good day.

Sassy will be here in 27 days.

Mike will be back in (hopefully) 35 days

My birthday is in 59 days.

I am trying to keep my head up and just take each day as it comes.

Posted from WordPress for Android. As much as I try to proof read, typos and grammatical errors will more than likely occur and I hope you can graciously forgive them and me.

I Wish Upon A Star

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It seems to be almost a promise that if I write that things are looking up, of course my next post will be about how things didn’t look up. Though this could be a simple continuation of the last post and my worries about how the medication may not be working when I am on the job. Like I said, it seems to work whenever I am at home but when I am at work it is a different story. 

I reported for my shift this Friday ready and excited to get through the weekend especially since I had some new dresses for trying dim sum for the first time the next day. 

It was okay, at first as usual. I did my pacing thing in the back office waiting for my shift. Which no one even questions any more. They just accepted that I can’t sit still very well. However there was one manager that I have always some issues with did not like it, His solution was to have me start early. I didn’t know how to say “no” to that so I went ahead and clocked in interrupting my ritual I guess you could say. Within two hours I noticed that I wasn’t able to finish my sentences. I couldn’t catch my breath, the room was spinning and I was developing chest pain. A few more check ins were attempted as I figured it would go away as these symptoms usually do with my panic attacks. The strange thing was that there wasn’t any feelings of panic beyond why was I experiencing these symptoms and why weren’t they going away? Over an hour I struggled through and eventually had to tap a manager on the shoulder and let her know what was going on as bare bones as I could – especially since we were on stage at that time. 

I asked after a possibility of an early release quickly and moved on to attempt working with another guest, during which my symptoms began to escalate. After finishing with the guest I moved to the managers office where I found the manager I spoke with earlier and quickly just said that I have a panic attack disorder and believed I was experiencing a panic attack. I explained the symptoms and that I wasn’t positive I would be able to make it for another five hours to the end of my shift. 

My Klonopin was in my purse so I grabbed that and filled my cup with water to sit down in the proffered office to hopefully work through the attack and see if I can talk myself into finishing my shift. 

One of my compulsions is writing as many of you know and tends to calm me down so I began to write out my symptoms and thoughts. One set was the realization that it wasn’t a matter of being able to finish the shift it was a compulsive thought line of “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.” I could but I can’t

I hadn’t told my manager about the chest pain until another manager came in that was already familiar with my situation and told her about the chest pain and the pain that was psychosomatic-ly moving along my left arm centering at my elbow.

Which prompted questions if I would like paramedics and that I would need someone to pick me up as I would not be able to drive home.

Of course I turned down the offer for the alpha (paramedics). What if this was once again all in my head? Paramedics show up and my blood pressure is normal all that stuff. Plus paramedics, just for a panic attack? It just seemed silly.

And once again, of course came along the questions if this role was right for me. Should I transfer. (Get out of their hair).

“I’m doing better. Really. I don’t know why this is happening. I feel confident in my job. I was fine during the morning shifts. Which you would think would be the opposite for the lack of sleep I was experiencing due to the shift change. There is no reason to be feeling like this. No reason.

Eventually I called my mom and told her what was going on so I can make an appointment with my psychiatrist to look at my meds and get him to write a note for what was going on. And as usual for me the moment I got on the phone I started to blubber. Following that call, I called my friend Linda that I was going to be staying with that night anyways to see if she would come and pick me up.

So we left my car there, picked up some food on the way to her place and I hopped into the tub for a bath when we got back. And just sat in the water for maybe two hours, refilling the tub when the water became cold.

My coworker has become a close friend and has taken to calling me almost every day whenever he is bored and tends to have freaky timing. The moment I got of the tub and plugged in my phone expecting to not get a phone call, **ring ring**.

I told him about what happened and how I was feeling and he already started making plans on how to cheer me up. We were already meeting up for dim sum the next morning but since I wasn’t going to be able to work he was working with more time.

We ended up going to the M&M super store at the Florida Mall because “I need chocolate. Stressed backwards is desserts.”

Which took me a long time to figure out. For someone with dyslexia, that was pretty sad.

It had begun to rain a little bit but the beauty of Florida is that it never lasts long usually. We went to Gatorland. I had never been before. Bad Floridian, I know. But the number of gators they had astounded me!

So many gators!

So many gators!

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This poor guy was missing a foot.

This poor guy was missing a foot.

Gatorland also had birds. Lots and lots of birds. 

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Small birds.

Small birds.

Slightly bigger birds.

Slightly bigger birds.

Frou frou birds.

Frou frou birds.

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Native Florida birds.

Native Florida birds.

Then the creepy bird.

Then the creepy bird.

They sold little bags of hot dogs you could use to feed the gators and of course the birds were interested as well. I mean, who wouldn’t be? Free food! Except there are some birds that are determined to get your hot dogs. That is when the stalking began. This creepy freaking bird started to literally stalk us. 

Stalker.

Stalker.

And because my friend was the one holding the treats… he seemed to get the brunt of it.

Even with the emus

Even with the emus

IMG_2871His new found loves made for great photo opportunities however. 

I found out the weird vulture stork looking thing was actually called a Woodland Stork and they are the most aggressive of the varieties that were found at Gatorland.

Aggressive? These birds? No. They just want a hug. From a hot dog…

We ended the day with dinner at The Wave found at Disney’s Contemporary Resort. I of course have never eaten there before same with many of the restaurants my friend takes me to. He has taken me to the Sci-fi diner, dim sum, City Walk and T-Rex at Downtown Disney. 

The forty five minutes waiting for a table was spent talking about DAAR and my relationships with my coworkers, how I started at Art and should I stay. If I shouldn’t stay, where should I go?

I apparently had a bad start. Immediately singled out by (his words) jealous people that got the ball rolling for how people would interact with me the rest of my DAAR career. Just like Speedway it seems. 

While we were sitting down, an adorable little girl was playing “capture the daddy with a big squirt gun” and it was very cute. She would come into the area we were sitting in and chase after him. Eventually the father surrendered and corralled her off saying “They are trying to have romantic time. Let’s leave them alone.” 

Immediately. 

“Uhh.”

Me: Not exactly but sure let’s go with that!

We tend to get that reaction a lot and it doesn’t even phase me anymore. 

Soon after our little buzzer thing went off and we found our table. 

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Wonderful fluffy multi-grain bread served with soft butter and salt.

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He ordered the lamb with a substitution of Jade Rice and Caramelized Mushrooms.

He ordered the lamb with a substitution of Jade Rice and Caramelized Mushrooms.

I ordered the Flat Iron Steak with fingerling potatoes and a substitution of onion mashed potatoes.

I ordered the Flat Iron Steak with fingerling potatoes and a substitution of onion mashed potatoes.

As always I let him order my drink since he is the expert and has yet to lead me to a bad drink. I learned I prefer Mojitos made with Sprite as opposed to just soda water. But look at this garnish!

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And here is the dress I wore.

And here is the dress I wore.

By the end of the night, I was feeling a bit better. Still stressed. Worried. But definitely feeling better. 

Let’s Start Off With This

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Arthritis sucks. First and foremost. My knees and shoulder have been screaming for the last couple hours.

Things have been good, though! Not bad at all; considering. I have been doing my best to be positive and fight through the currents. Maybe this attitude is thanks to the medication combined with actually getting hours at work.

At work, it has been a bit of a struggle working a full day but I am getting better. The more I do it the easier it gets. There are times when I get out of balance and take things personally when I really shouldn’t but it is progress. The whispers are no where near as abundant and the paranoia is minimum. Every once in a while I have to pace and circle around or go to the stock room and sit with my back to the corner but it isn’t every hour like it used to be.

All this positive and happy feelings keep throwing me off. My naivete keeps me wondering if maybe I am in a manic phase or if the meds are actually working. The happy go lucky side of me is saying it must be the meds.

I worry about my friends.

One is being deployed to the desert in nine days.

One is severely depressed and in desperate need of hugs.

And another I just miss and worry about her because she is so far away.

Such delicate balances to be watched and taken care of.

I am still trying to decide what I am going to do for my birthday. It will probably be a small individual affair again but that’s okay. I will spend some time with my Aussie, early, since she leaves before the actual birthday. And then some time with my friend comes back from his deployment.

On another note, I went shopping today. I bought some dresses and a couple pairs of shoes. Maybe I will take some pictures before work and upload them this weekend.

As a close out. Everyone is already aware of the passing of Robin Williams.

Like all of you I grew up with him on my TV in my home. My mom called him a prince. There were two princes according to her. Steve Irwin and Robin Williams.

When the need broke she just rocked back and forth crying because “there aren’t any princes left.”

“They have all left.”

Robin Williams was a hero of mine. He made his illness work for him. Brought so much joy and happiness and all the right emotions to millions of people every day. The knowledge of his apparent suicide sent my positive thoughts down the drain.

“If he couldn’t do it, how can I?”

If he couldn’t be strong, how can I, weak as I am.

But as I always say – we can never fully comprehend another’s pain. So for that I now say, we all love you Robin. You were strength and light for me during times of darkness.

Thank you.

Bangarang.

Posted from WordPress for Android. As much as I try to proof read, typos and grammatical errors will more than likely occur and I hope you can graciously forgive them and me.

So Bleeping Hot

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I am not sure if y’all remember but about a six months ago I moved a 300lb Oak table into the end room to turn the area into my sewing room.

But with this heat? I haven’t touched my sewing room since April or May. Too bleeping hot.

Since I am once again having to haul out and clean the big mess that is my room I am debating moving at least my sewing machine and buying a cardboard layout board to sew in my room for the rest of the summer and (still hot) Fall.

But the sewing bug has slowly been itching back into my life along with the chatty blogging bug. I miss all of you so much and wish I had a laptop so I could share everything with you more often!

Posted from WordPress for Android. As much as I try to proof read, typos and grammatical errors will more than likely occur and I hope you can graciously forgive them and me.