the other day at work i gradually realised i was so anxious and tense that all the muscles in my head were feeling super twangy, like tightly wound guitar strings. TWANGGGG!!!! TWANNGGGGG!!! i had to use every power in my
why was i so stressed? ah, see, there's this vicious circle that happens when you're depressed/anxious: you feel like shit, and so you come to believe that you're shit, and the work you're doing is shit, and you're liable to get fired in approximately, oh, say 5 minutes, and the anxiety caused by those thoughts causes you to become dull - all of that mental energy focused on the fight-or-flight response doesn't give you all that much intellectual wiggle room so you miss things, obvious things, and because you already feel like shit, you think, hey! i'm missing obvious things because i'm a shitty idiot who's shit at the job she's doing and that she's about to be fired from. this doesn't tend to make you feel better and so the spiral continues.
i'm currently learning to use the practice of mindfulness to nip this in the bud, but boy howdy, this particular anxiety attack was a doozy! (huh - is that how you spell doozy? seems weird, no?) at any rate, it happened several times and because my tennis elbow* was becoming seriously painful, i decided to go see my doctor. ok, confession time: i'd decided to go see my doctor about a month ago but somehow something always managed to come up and so i put my health second. tonight i finally saw my doctor and now i'm getting cortisone shots in my tennis elbow (whenever i get around to it). i also told her that my anti-bananas medication isn't working any more. and i need more. please and thank you.
ok, let's reframe. i suspect that if i lived a normal life in which i lived in some sort of stability, with one job, in one place, with one husband, the anti-bananas medications would function quite well. alas, i keep engaging in massive upheavals like a crazy person (ha!) which means that my life choices have resulted in chaos that is far beyond the range of what your average decently acting anti-bananas medication can handle. the fault is not in the anti-bananas medication; the fault is in my life choices. i admit it, but nevertheless, i need more anti-bananas.
my doctor will consult her wise books, she will converse with a shrinkologist, and she will write me a prescription for something to will fill the gaps in my sanity. perhaps all this will work and it will result in me 1. not being fucking miserable all the time, 2. not having a twangy head, 3. figuring out what the hell i want from life (other than mental health, again, please and thank you).
in the meantime, mr. monkey's going to be here in just over an hour!!!!!!!!!!!!
*this time it's my left arm which i use to play tennis exactly as much as my right arm, which suffered from tennis elbow several years ago. i'm SO giving up tennis.