As you may have noticed via my last entry, I’m not at work today. I’m home sick. It is up to you to decide whether I’m really sick, making myself sick, or something else entirely. Let’s just say that it was impossible for me to walk out the door and get on the street car this morning.
I went back to bed before quanta left for work, and slept until nearly noon. Now that I am ensconced on my sofa, reading books and surfing the net, I feel much better.
From my recent experiences, in addition to what I posted the other day (i.e. I’m smart but I can’t handle simple things), I have learned the following:
– I have very few social skills (who’d have guessed?)
– I hate making coffee
– I am most comfortable behind my computer, sitting on my sofa
– I can’t deal with decisions, stress, or responsibility, especially in regards to a client who pays upwards of a million a year for services
– I don’t want to be around people
– and lastly, it is time to go back to the doctor to see about going on meds again
Surprisingly, or maybe not, it is the last thing that is the most difficult to handle. I have tried to convince myself over the past three and a half years that I am better. I know that there is nothing wrong with having depression, that it doesn’t make me a bad person. But I thought it was something that I had handled and moved on from. And here it is, biting me in the butt, so to speak. I am also showing signs of Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD). (Thanks American Brent for pointing that out several months ago. I wish I had listened to you then.) quanta is trying to understand, but unless you have experienced it yourself there is no way to really know the difficulty and fear that surrounds simple interaction with other people.
Both quanta and my parents are encouraging me to stay with my job and to work things out. But, again, they don’t understand that by being repeatedly exposed to my fears things are only getting worse. I think that if it were a part time job, and I was exposed to these fears for a shorter over all time, instead of 8-9 hours a day, I would be able to cope better. But as it is, I am totally overwhelmed and I start to shut down. Everything I try to do to cope fails, because there is just too much to deal with. I have been reading up on behaviour therapy, and sessions of no more then 3 hours are suggested to being with, in order to limit the possibly of shutting down and causing more problems. I think, perhaps, my depression is also interfering with things, making it even more difficult to cope. (Through my research, it seems that treatment of depression should be undertaken first, otherwise the treatment of SAD will likely take much longer then necessary or even fail. How’s that for happy news?) I think that this past week has actually been a serious setback, rather then a step forward. I know it is hard for a person to diagnosis herself, but I know things are more wrong now then they were before.