So...remembering things is not my strength.
And therefore, I've forgotten to take my anti-depressants two weeks in a row now.
My eyes swollen from crying for an hour upstairs (because no one sits on the 3rd floor of this building so I was free to just cry as much as I wanted and no one would see or hear me).
Muscles aching from me rigidly trying to hold my body together.
I'm not well, you guys. I'm not well at all.
Do you remember I told you once about 'the snowball effect' and that one little thing can tip a sensitive, depression-prone person off to heightened emotions and weighing up whether they should live or die?
Well my 'snowball' was my friend Tara telling me that her boss said I was "too talkative" and that Tara shouldn't talk to me anymore.
Logic says "Pfft. Don't worry about it. No biggie". Logic reminds me that I work really hard in this role and that when I do talk - to anyone - at work, it's as I'm in the kitchen loading/unloading the dishes or as I'm walking by their desk on their way to deliver something or as I'm on my way to greet a guest. I'm always working. I don't 'slack off' and I'm pretty proud of that. I think an important part of being a facilities manager is building positive relationships with everyone I work with; so that's what I do. I say "good morning" to people. I remember important facts about their lives and I ask after them: "Is your little girl still teething? Did you pay that fine from yesterday? How did the volleyball trails go - did you make the team?" and I think - for the most part - that I'm doing a great job and am surrounded by good friends.
But in the state I'm in, what I 'heard' from Tara - and her boss Vicky - is that I'm lazy, I'm worthless and I talk too much.
So the IRRATIONAL part of me that now runs 90% of my thoughts and actions because I've not been taking my meds has gone straight to RAGE and I want to tell Vicky she can go f**k herself and quit this job. Right now.
I even wrote up a very angry email stating WHY I was NEVER coming back to this stupid place.
...
*deep breaths*
I didn't send it. I deleted it.
But I'm still shaking from it.
I'm still upset from it. The thoughts in my head are compounding and getting bigger and darker and stronger. I'm convinced people in the office are laughing at me "poor Janet - she has no friends so she's going around talking to everyone about stuff and no one cares".
Where did this come from?
Why am I feeling this way?
I'm looking around at our open-floor plan and frowning at every face, wondering if they're mocking me. Laughing at me. Pitying me. In Vicky's case - judging me. Unfairly!
I'm not in a good way, you guys.
It's 11:52am and I just want to go home.
Psych appointment with "George" at 3pm so I'll hang in there until then.
And therefore, I've forgotten to take my anti-depressants two weeks in a row now.
My eyes swollen from crying for an hour upstairs (because no one sits on the 3rd floor of this building so I was free to just cry as much as I wanted and no one would see or hear me).
Muscles aching from me rigidly trying to hold my body together.
I'm not well, you guys. I'm not well at all.
Do you remember I told you once about 'the snowball effect' and that one little thing can tip a sensitive, depression-prone person off to heightened emotions and weighing up whether they should live or die?
Well my 'snowball' was my friend Tara telling me that her boss said I was "too talkative" and that Tara shouldn't talk to me anymore.
Logic says "Pfft. Don't worry about it. No biggie". Logic reminds me that I work really hard in this role and that when I do talk - to anyone - at work, it's as I'm in the kitchen loading/unloading the dishes or as I'm walking by their desk on their way to deliver something or as I'm on my way to greet a guest. I'm always working. I don't 'slack off' and I'm pretty proud of that. I think an important part of being a facilities manager is building positive relationships with everyone I work with; so that's what I do. I say "good morning" to people. I remember important facts about their lives and I ask after them: "Is your little girl still teething? Did you pay that fine from yesterday? How did the volleyball trails go - did you make the team?" and I think - for the most part - that I'm doing a great job and am surrounded by good friends.
But in the state I'm in, what I 'heard' from Tara - and her boss Vicky - is that I'm lazy, I'm worthless and I talk too much.
So the IRRATIONAL part of me that now runs 90% of my thoughts and actions because I've not been taking my meds has gone straight to RAGE and I want to tell Vicky she can go f**k herself and quit this job. Right now.
I even wrote up a very angry email stating WHY I was NEVER coming back to this stupid place.
...
*deep breaths*
I didn't send it. I deleted it.
But I'm still shaking from it.
I'm still upset from it. The thoughts in my head are compounding and getting bigger and darker and stronger. I'm convinced people in the office are laughing at me "poor Janet - she has no friends so she's going around talking to everyone about stuff and no one cares".
Where did this come from?
Why am I feeling this way?
I'm looking around at our open-floor plan and frowning at every face, wondering if they're mocking me. Laughing at me. Pitying me. In Vicky's case - judging me. Unfairly!
I'm not in a good way, you guys.
It's 11:52am and I just want to go home.
Psych appointment with "George" at 3pm so I'll hang in there until then.
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