Making a grumbling sound to match my scowl, I pulled myself from the corner of the loveseat and shuffled across the room, responding sullenly to the summons of the telephone.
"Fine," I replied to Mom when she said the egg in the crisper was for salads - hard-boiled and ready for dicing.
"Fine," I answered when she asked how I was, knowing she would interpret that I've declined rapidly over the afternoon. They left mid-morning and work grows closer with every passing moment.
"Fine," I sighed when she said she was going to make an appointment for me next week. Her questions, comments, scraped against my consciousness and I wanted only for her to go away. To smooth on metaphorical lotion that would soothe the incessant itch of communicating.
She let me go a moment later and I fumbled to replace the phone in its cradle. The ache in my head, switching sides in disconcerting patterns hurt less than the one in my lower back. I want to sleep but struggle to find peaceful rest and comfortable positions, regardless of how frequently I adjust pillows. So I swallow medicine that drugs me to sleep, enjoying the oblivion nonetheless.
Despite the closed blinds and dimming sunlight, I came downstairs to recline on my comfortable couch, sinking into the old cushions much as I'm re-descending into depression after poking my head out briefly for the weekend.
I must spend tomorrow in presentations, most of which are my own. I then travel to see important customers before taking meetings with the leadership to end the week. It hurts to think of it. Literally. I feel my stomach clench warningly and pressure increase behind my eyes. Anxiety creates lists of excuses, none of which are plausible, and I fret over whether or not I'll be able to get out of the house.
Maturity - years of suffering through this and clawing my way out - have indicated I must keep it simple.
1. Wake up.
2. Brush teeth, put on bra.
3. Take dog for walk.
4. Shower - do not wash hair.
5. Dress - wear... something. I need to figure that out as it could send me back to bed if I struggle tomorrow. A dress - the black and cream. That's easiest.
6. Pack bag.
7. Give dog treats.
8. Drive to work.
Once I'm in the car, habit will get me to the office. Then it's just a matter of staying distracted enough that I can stay there.
2 comments:
I'm sorry you are suffering like this.
I hope you could stay distracted enough to feel a little better. I made it to lab but didn't get anything done before having to escape. Good luck for tomorrow. *hugs*
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