I haven't posted in a while. In my head, I have written quite a bit...or thought about writing quite a bit. I've been in a dark place and writing would probably have been a good outlet for working through it. But, a good outlet for me may not be a good read for some.
In the last few weeks, my anxiety has manifested more than usual. Sometimes I can tell if there is a potential for an anxiety attack to arise. Other times, it's like BAM! out of nowhere. One of the recent ones happened without a trigger that I can pinpoint. During my freak-out, Jarvis was on the couch next to me. As I'm sobbing and on the verge of hyperventilating, he lifts his head, looks at me, and starts to whimper. Seeing him respond this way made me feel bad on top of everything else. Ativan was a must to bring me back to some semblance of calm.
The day after that, I almost lost it out in public. How I managed to avoid being curled-up-in-a-ball-weeping-in-a-corner is still a mystery to me. I was at the post-office to send off some paperwork. I was addressing the envelope and when I went to put my address on it, I started writing but knew it wasn't right. I forgot my address! 39 years old and couldn't remember where I lived. This scared me; I couldn't figure out what was happening to me. What was I going to do? Where was I going to find my address? Would I have to call Shawn? That wouldn't be embarrassing at all; "Hi, how's your day going? So, can you tell me what our address is?" At no point did I think to look at the paperwork I was sending off which had my address on it. I did think about my wallet, but not my driver's license. My thought about my wallet was my credit cards, but, they don't have addresses on them. FINALLY, after running all these things through my mind, I remembered that my address was on my driver's license and my license was in my wallet. I'm sure this was all a matter of seconds, but it felt like forever!!! I could feel my heart racing and the beginnings of a lump in my throat, but I kept it together enough to not make a scene. Oh, by the way, I had the numbers of my address right, just not in the right order. It was all jumbled.
I didn't have a purse at the post office and didn't have any Ativan on me. I now have Ativan in a pillbox on my person if I'm not home. My therapist and psychiatrist both made a point of telling me to make sure I have some with me because an attack can happen anywhere.
In addition to realizing I should keep Ativan with me, I also know that not taking care of my thyroid can also contribute to my recent long-stretch of darkness. Long story short, I was out of thyroid meds and should have done something to take care of the situation, but I didn't take action soon enough. I ended up without my Synthroid for a month or so. So, even with a low dose of Synthroid and a borderline hypothyroidism, it was not okay to just stop the meds. I didn't think the result would be so dramatic and now I know.
And so that's how things have been.