I feel like I'm stuck in a time loop.  It's a strange déjà vu - in the hospital, breathing masks, intubation, all the family is coming; except this time it's happening here - in my state, in my town, with I guess what are also my potential country doctors.

The more it repeats the more I try to remember what I wanted to change about the first case.  What can I do?  What decisions can we make?

And damn, wouldn't you know it, I want to call my ex.  I have no idea why because I have no idea what I would say to him.  I just miss him. Then I think, this is why people fuck their exes, because they don't have to talk. I hate myself for thinking all these things.  

I think there is some point when the pain drills so far down inside of you that you try to tunnel back to the top and you're almost there, but it's such a long journey and it's so hard on you and you're not sure if you will make it back into the sunlight and you just want someone else to offer their hand to help.

I acknowledge that I am a hormonal mess.  My doctor did say that until we find the right level of medicine to balance my thyroid levels I will be more hormonal and tired.  Now the thought of losing another person I love is too scary to deal with. My face is a sticky mess of tear stains and make-up smudges.

Labels: diary entries, family, hospitals, thyroid

Despite lack of evidence to the contrary, Libby has not been on hiatus.  I've been reading a lot to keep up with my reading goals for the year and also because reading is awesome and books are magical time machines that take you back and forth through time but also sideways to different realities.  There have been so many amazing passages that I have bookmarked to share, but I don't have as much down time lately to post them.  Also, as much as I love calendars and coordinating, I've never made an effort to update Libby with content on a time table.

I felt like Manchester Orchestra tonight but I have so little on this computer.  This song spoke to me, and all the books in my life right now, but then I listened to Simple Math and I'm like, that's me too.

What if I've been trying to get to where I've always been? 

And then, out of left field, it's Eminem for the rest of the night.

Labels: books, Libby, Manchester Orchestra, reading, reading challenge

My anxiety feels particularly suffocating today. It stays relatively occupied and buried when I'm at work, but when I'm off it's needy and consuming and even the littlest things, answering a text or  tidying my closet, feel overwhelming and part way through I lose whatever energy I had.

I tried to say something about this on facebook tonight, but even that was too consuming.  I fidgeted and fought with myself for almost half an hour trying to bring this up and apologize for ignoring people and blowing off plans, but in the end I couldn't find a way that didn't declare myself a hopeless idiot riddled with anxiety and over sharing.  So I have not responded to that message and I have not offered two friends an explanation for why I still have not called them to pick a date for dinner.  After two hours I did respond to the most important of my text messages. I did however have to call my best friend to talk me through my response, but had no trouble talking with her and even made a few jokes.  Ah, but I have avoided her and not made plans to hang out in weeks (a month? two months?) and I can't explain why not except that the anxiety from planning to get together has been so consuming and draining that I can't even tell her I've had to cancel because of it.

I feel like a fraud so often.  I miss my friends but I won't make plans to see them.  I want to embrace life and be happy but I put off doing things that make me happy.  I wish the medication I have for this actually did something to make a difference.

Labels: anxiety