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#219 - wait! I get better!
11/2/01 @ 6:53 pm

I think it's depression time again. I wish I knew what brought these episodes on. I think it was a month or 2 ago, that I had a bad couple of days, and then I got better.

Well, anytime the getting better part wants to roll around, I'll be more than pleased.

I've spent the last 24 hours or so over-indulging my every whim, to make up for yesterday. Yesterday was a nightmare. After I wrote that last entry, I finished my lunch, and went back to receiving. Finished that up, feeling OK, then went back to my office to start on the accounting. And WHAM! Instant depression. Panicky, crawl-up-in-the-corner type-mood. It was not pretty. I spent almost a 1/2 hour sitting there immobile, trying to decide if I should go home sick or not. For some reason I can't explain, I couldn't stand the idea of staying. But more importantly, I felt mortified at the idea of announcing that I was going home sick.

Because either a) they'll think I'm faking it, b) they'll wonder what the fuck it is that I'm not falling down, which I should be after using up so much damn sick time, or c) I must be one screwed-up psycho-bitch. I am convinced my co-workers are thinking (a), and my employers are moving on to (c). I'm starting to feel like I just can't do this anymore, and I should just quit. Because I could do part time. I was doing it. But I can't do full time. And I'm going insane trying to not get too far behind at 3/4 time. And losing my mind. Feeling guilty about falling behind. Feeling guilty about being unwilling to put in more hours. Feeling guilty that work has me so stressed and wiped out before the day is even DONE, that I can't bare the thought of going to the gym on top of it.

I had some ideas on time management. That if I could do the accounting in the morning, it would be better. I seem to have a problem conquering new tasks in the afternoon. I have a big boost of energy right as I roll in, so I can use that to do the boring, concentration-required accounting tasks. Then after lunch I can do the mind-numbingly easy receiving. Except, that would turn the store upside down. Because everyone wants their customer's shit NOW. Hence, I wonder what I'm supposed to do. I don't *think* they can fire me if I'm mentally & physically unable to keep this up and continue receiving. But it's either that or they take accounting away from me, which I will refuse to do. I am not a stock-boy. And they don't have anyone else that can do receiving. Unless galpal does it. And she's too busy herself. So they would have to take her out of sales and make her just purchasing & receiving again. And I don't think she'd go for the demotion any more than I would. So we're back to the fired option. Or quitting, because I feel worthless not meeting their expectations.

So onto today. Today was easy. Cut some checks (it's Friday), and do receiving, then go to the doctor. I cried last night because I was so stressed about it. Like they were going to tell me I was dying or something. Of course, they have to run tests for that, but I was still convinced someone would tell me "game over, man", and my life would be ruined/over.

Not just because of the blood sugar thing, but this other thing. That I've never told anyone about until 2 weeks ago when it happened in the car with Sweetie and I was so close to tears from freaking out that I had to tell him. It's really hard to explain, but for the past 2 years or so, either my lungs or my heart have been spasming and locking up, like a charlie horse in your chest. And it only lasts a split second, but leaves me breathless. And this last time, it was longer and worse than ever before, and actually kind of painful. And for the first time it lasted long enough for me to try and breath. And I succeeded in breathing, and something was still clenched. So if not lungs, then heart? yah, I was freaking.

Doctor does not think it's heart, and probably not lungs. She said she didn't know what it was, and because it was so rare, I shouldn't really be concerned, and maybe it's stress related. She asked me if it's ever during a stressful situation, and I said no, it always seems to be when I'm sitting down and alone. But stress does weird things, so that could be all this is. It never seemed to occur to me that maybe it's actually my chest, and not anything within my chest cavity. So maybe it *is* a charlie horse of the chest? Who knows?

So we talked about the blood sugar crashes and the diabetes-scare that the past doctor was looking into. Did I mention this? In the middle of trying to figure out what the fuck's wrong with me, my doctor got transferred, so now I have a new Doc. Yippie! Not.

I wanted to bring up that my therapist had mentioned possible hypoglycemia, but at this point I was feeling like a freak of a hypocondriac (there I go, misspelling medical terms again!), that I didn't mention that part. I figure they're doing enough tests up the wazzu, it's got to be on the list of things to consider.

So, I left with no new answers, which is good, because I was expecting the signature of DEATH on my medical exam. So non-DEATH is a plus, right?

Then there was the lab. Yep, lots of blood drawn. Woo-hoo! Not. Although, I'm so old-hat at this, I know what kind of needle to request, and to continuously be monitoring my vision for the signs of passing out. And to keep my eyes peeled for that amazingly cute chick that STILL works there. I don't know why, but for some reason I figured she was an intern or something, so she'd be gone within a few months. She's been there for as long as I've been going there, so probably more than a year now. And she's so cute! Blue eyes, some dark eyeliner, many ear piercings, and her curly brown hair is getting fucking LONG. I *love* long hair. *sigh* I have a crush on my lab tech. hehe

Except that lab-tech girl and my piercer for the day and me had a nifty conversation about one of the home-tests I have to perform myself. Well, it's not a test. It's a *collection* for a test. Oh, you're thinking urine collection, right? You would be only slightly correct. Ever heard of a 24-hour urine test? Well, when *I* first heard about it, I about fainted. I'm supposed to pee 24 times in one day, and COLLECT all of that MYSELF??? *ahem* No, not exactly. I now am the proud (er, not) temporary-guardian of a bright-orange jug. Come Sunday morning, I begin collecting my pee. And every time I pee, no matter how large or how small, it goes into the bright orange jug. And that lives in my REFRIDGERATOR. For 24 hours. And what's my reward? To bring it in Monday morning, pull up my sleeve, and let the vamps take another pint outta me. Oooh! Joyous day!

So that was kind of amusing. Bantering with She Who Must Poke Me and lab-tech cutie. And, big plus, I'm not dying. But when I'm going out to my car, and I see the mall in the distance (my most favoritist place in the world!), I ask myself if I want to go to the mall. Y'know, carrying on the whole theme of over-indulgence. And Self responds "no, thanks." This worries Me, as Self never misses the opportunity to shop. So Me & Self sat there for 5 minutes, pondering every store in the mall that might pull me in. And as I checked them all off, I got more and more sad. So that by the time I'm nearly home, I'm a mess. Could it be because when I realized I didn't want to go shopping, and Me posed the question to Self if she wanted to go to work? And Self threw a hissy-fit? Possibly. I don't know. All I know is, I stopped by the video store and grabbed a cookie-cutter romance movie, and came home to vegg.

And I haven't felt myself since. That is, until now. Weird. Did any of you notice my change of tone back there? I don't think it was my blissful thoughts of lab-tech cutie, but maybe just in general, writing and trying to be creative about it makes me feel better. Huh. Maybe I'll get off my ass and write some more in that Anitafic. One can only hope. I don't hold much hope for it getting finished if I don't write something in it over the weekend.

So, wish me and my jug luck! And if any of you have any thoughts on how to win the lottery and become She Who Doesn't Have to Work For Anyone, well then my problems would be solved, so you really must get in touch. OK? Groovy.

PS: I finally get what all the fuss over Hugh Jackman is all about! Hubba hubba!!!

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