Breathe

In my last entry, I wrote about my work being a "safe" place for me physically and mentally.  I didn't expect to be challenged so quickly.  Today would have been a day that I would have called into work due to my anxiety.  Instead, I called to say that I was going to be late, tried to gather myself together, and got there about an hour after I was scheduled.  I mean, that's better than calling in all together right.  On the bright side, I made it through the six hours without panic, dying, or needing to leave early.  On the dimmer side, I spent the entire six hours working there a complete and utter nervous wreck.

I think I did a really good job masking it.  I faked it and I made it so I should be happy right?  My goal was to go in no matter what and really try to overcome the anxiety while I'm there.  I mean, when this all began I would panic just walking into my apartment, trying to sleep next to a man I wasn't sure I loved, trying to figure out what was real and what wasn't.   During that time, I had multiple panic attacks a day.  Still, with medication and therapy and a lot of work trying reconnecting with myself, I got through it.  It was hard and it was terrifying and I broke down numerous times.  I need to expect that it is going to happen with work, I mean, until I figure out what's triggering it.

It's amazing how you can forget something that was a normal not that long ago.  I've forgotten just how exhausting and long six hours is when you feel like everything inside is just screaming but you're unable to express it.  Instead you paste on a smile, pick up the phone, and happily, "Thank you for calling card services.  My name is Denise.  May I have your name, please?"  Luckily, you've got this routine down pat so you can say to yourself, "It's okay.  This is a safe place.  You've got this" while the person on the other tries to explain or freaks out about their problems.  You hang up the phone, take a deep breath, notice there are still three calls in queue, and you do it all over again.   I got through the day.   I answered forty phone calls, QC'd the giant pile of yesterday's work, and made another 45-50 fraud calls and I did it without crying or screaming or panicking.

I was myself and I wasn't at the exact same time.  When I left work, I was proud of myself.  I didn't let my panic and anxiety control me.  Hell, my cramps even came back and I didn't have any more Advil left causing bringing myself almost to the point where I thought I wasn't going to make.  My heart racing, my palms sweaty, my feet feeling the slight tingle.  Still, I managed to keep my control.  I was proud of myself.  Now, though, I just feel angry.  I'm frustrated, angry, irritated, and exhausted.  Now, I feel like I didn't do the right thing.  Now that the day is finally over and I achieved what I needed to, I feel more confused than ever.