Tweaking the Meds

On Monday I had an appointment with the doc that manages my medication. I went in having firmly decided to do something with the drugs. My world is definitely getting smaller and the process seems to be accelerating somewhat. There was a time when I eagerly sought opportunities to do things that I now find uncomfortable and anxiety provoking. I have been troubled by these changes as they have reached a point where they are really chipping away at my identity, and I had come to the conclusion that it was time to put the brakes on this process. Continue reading

Shrinking World

A few weeks back I relayed a comment a therapist made to me about anxiety making a person’s world grow smaller and smaller. I had not thought about anxiety in this context before, but it is the perfect description. For some this may not be a fresh revelation, but I have been living with anxiety for years and while I was aware that this was happening to me I had not found a way to clearly voice it. Somehow being able to articulate what is happening offers some respite from the feelings of loss that accompany the anxiety. Continue reading

Still Working On My Anxiety Management Plan

The chaos of the holiday season has left me little time to think or write over the past month. A few ideas have run through my head, but finding the time to put them to words has been near impossible. As the first week of the new year comes to a close I find myself with a little time and it has occurred to me that I have reached something of a milestone. It was at the end of December 2011 that I took my last Klonopin. I have now been flying without my anxiety safety net for an entire year. Continue reading

The Walls Are Closing In

I had an anxiety attack on Sunday. It was in broad daylight in a crowded place. It was the middle of the day. This has not happened to me in a very long time. I spent most of the summer fighting through crippling anxiety attacks, but they all happened at night in my own bed. I was safe in the daylight, darkness was the problem. This is a troubling turn of events. Continue reading

The Hardest Job You Will Ever Love

They say parenting is the hardest job you will ever love. Well they were at least half right in that it’s the hardest job I have ever had, but I have to admit there are days when I wonder how much I actually “love” it. This is not to say I don’t love my son because I do, more than I ever thought I would be able to, which is what makes the parenting process so damn painful. My son has been luke warm on me from the beginning. When he was an infant we could sit on the couch and when his mother handed him to me he would cry. When I handed him back he would stop. She could pass him to a friend or grandparent and he wouldn’t cry, back to me and the crying would start up. He was left alone with me about three nights a week for about an hour during his first couple months. The entire time we are alone together he would scream. He was completely inconsolable and would cry until he fell asleep every single night. It was, and remains, painful to be so fully invested in something and get so little back. I am aware of how selfish that sounds, but I see the relationship he has with his mother and wonder why I cant have just a piece of that. What did I do? Continue reading

Every Storm Runs Out Of Rain

Another week brings another source of stress. As one fire gets put out at work another flares up. I have spent the week demanding that my boss contact several of my customers and talk with them. Tell them something, anything really, but take some of the pressure off me. I told him straight up that I have no problem facing the music when I created the problems. I have broad shoulders, but I am being buried by a shit storm that he made. He seemed to get it and made a couple calls for me. They guys I work for aren’t bad guys, they just aren’t the savviest businessmen you ever met. Continue reading

Work, Sleep, and Moral Quandaries

Last week I was supposed to be on vacation. I didn’t actual drive around like a normal week, but I did handle a lot of work related crap each day. I have a number of bad hard problems created by my employer that put me in ethical quandaries that are simply trumped by my financial reality. This makes me sick. I feel like I am selling my soul, but in this economy I don’t feel like I have much choice. The mortgage is due the first of every month and my child meets me at the door each night ready for dinner. The bank man needs to get paid and the boy needs to eat. It is no more complicated than that. Except it is. Much more. “Golden handcuffs” was the term used to describe my circumstances. If only. If they were made of gold I would not be transferring money from savings each month to pay my bills. More like copper or tin handcuffs. Just enough value to keep me off the street. Continue reading