Stitch up my Damn Leg!

I've erased several blog post attempts and I'm still not sure what I want to say. I feel so different now. There has been so much pain and sadness and lonliness and anger, that I haven't gotten any gems of wisdom from Dr. K. We have just been processing (whatever the hell that means) my feelings. So when thinking of topics to write about, talking about what I learn from my sessions with Dr. K is out. The rest of my life is comprised mostly of hauling my ass to work, crying at my desk all morning, going out to schools, coming home from work and going to sleep. I am isolating from everyone - my real-life friends, my online friends, and my blogger friends. It's just that everything seems so H-A-R-D. You know that feeling where it takes all your energy just to do one simple thing - I feel like that's every minute of my life right now. I'm on the lowest maintenance phase, doing as little as I have to to get by. It's a big success when I shower. My family and I are going to St. Lucia for Christmas, but I'm not even excited. Sigh.

I have therapy in an hour and I don't know what to talk about. Yeah, I'm sure that it's beneficial to feel my feelings (shiver, shiver) and process them with her - but that's NOT helping in the short-term. Maybe years down the road I will reap the benefits of feeling my feelings, but right now I need a help. SOS, dude! It's like I have a gaping wound and the doctor is refusing to stitch it up. At least stitch it up halfway, man! I'm dying here. Something needs to change so that I can function better. Hopefully I'll have some ideas from Dr. K today.

Off to therapy. Then I'm going home to watch TV and sleep. That's all I do these days.

Slump dee Dump

Dearest readers, I'm sure by now you have all noticed that I'm in a blogging slump. I think I can attribute it to several things:

- This full-time job is KICKING MY ASS

- Currently moving is stressing me out (yesterday and today I have off work and I have not lifted a finger to finish moving my stuff, yesterday I slept all day instead and today it's 1pm and I still haven't done anything so now half my stuff is in my new place and half in my old place). Damn moving, damn damn damn.

- Therapy has been really hard lately. I've been angry at Dr. K many times over the past two months and it's really been affecting me and bringing up deeper issues that frankly I don't want to deal with.

So please hang in there with me peeps, hopefully I'll be back on track soon.

You Can Stop Holding Your Breath Waiting for Another Post

Sorry, I haven't blogged in a while. I know that I'm so riveting that you all have been waiting with betted breath for another post in the saga of my life. Ha ha. I haven't blogged in exactly one week. That's an unusually long time for me. I've been pretty stressed out this week because last Sunday I found out that I needed to move out of my apartment and into the Volunteer Corps. House (it's clearly A LOT more complicated than that, but I'll spare you the gory details). I started moving today and I'm about half way done. I have all my furniture moved in courtesy of C, the neighborly lawn man, but now I have all that crap to go through where you don't know what to do with it yet you just can't bring yourself to get rid of it. Why is it that every time I move I realize how much stuff I really have?! I just accumulate and accumulate - like a vacuum sucking up stuff from very major retailer in the area.

I know this move will be good for me (at least that's what I keep telling myself over and over in my head seeing as it wasn't totally my choice). The rent is 1/6 of the cost of the rent at my old apartment (major brownie points!) and it's closer to work (but now involves a bus ride and a train ride, yuck). I'm going to miss my roommate though and I'm going to miss only living with one person opposed to the four I'm moving in with. But I know these girls and I like them. They are the ones doing the Volunteer Corps. program with me (although they work at other agencies in the area, not the rape crisis center). I won't miss having to deal with an obnoxiously unreachable and clueless/malicious (I know, weird combo, but I have living proof) landlord. The move really is a no-brainer, but me no likey change and transitions.

So needless to say I've been stressed to the MAX. Everything is stressing me out lately. Moving is stressing me out. Work is stressing me out. Therapy is stressing me out. Hell, even showering is stressing me out. Everything is stressing me out. This week I have Wednesday and Thursday off from work and I wish I could tell you that I'll finally have time to relax, but I won't - because I'm still in the process of moving. I'm not one of those haul-ass-get-it-all-done-in-one-day sort of person. I like to drag it out over a week or so - which ultimately makes it harder because then I'm stressed for that much longer. But hey, it's the way I work.

Off to watch Desperate Housewives with my old roomie - damn her for getting me hooked on this show!

PS

You know those thigh-high hooker boots I wore when I was hauling ass up a million flights of stairs to my T appointment on Tuesday? Well, guess what? On my right boot, the seam that goes all the way across the boot totally ripped open a day later. Damn - those were practically new boots! But I guess the stair-sprint was too much for them.

Moral of the story:

Don't wear thigh-high hooker boots (even if they are cute) to therapy. Hmph.

Worst Therapy Experience EVER

On Tuesday, I had an appointment with Dr. K at 5:45pm. Usually I go straight from work to my evening appointments, but on Tuesday I got to leave work early. I got home and was exhausted so I decided to take a power nap before my appointment. I set two alarms - because I'm always paranoid about oversleeping. Well, lo and behold I wake up and it's 5:55pm - ten minutes after my appointment! I scream a big silent eek! and race out the door. I make it in good time, but when I get to her building it's after 6pm. After 6pm none of the elevators will go up without a key card. I frantically look around for the security guard to let me up, but he is no where to be found. People are streaming out of the elevators (6pm - work is over) and I asked about 15 different people if they had a key card to swipe me into the elevator. Finally one lady had one, but her security clearance only went up to the 5th floor. Um, problem, Dr. K is on the freaking 13th floor! So I decided to ride up to the 5th floor and then run up the stairs (in my thigh high hooker boots no less) to the 13th floor. By the time I get to the top, my legs were so noodly and wobbly I can barely make it down the hall to Dr. K's office without collapsing.

By the time I get there, I only have 15 friggin' minutes left in our appointment. I was hoping she would stay later since this was her last appointment of the day, but NOPE, she gave me 15 minutes to the T. I was beyond frustrated that 1) I overslept, 2) I couldn't find the effing security guard and 3) I had to haul ass up a bizillon flights of stairs - all for what? 15 lousy minutes.

It gets better. I told Dr. K as I was leaving that I had secretly hoped that she would let me stay longer. Her response: that she was tired and needed to eat dinner. WTF?

Unlovable

It's after 1am here and I can't sleep. Well, let me rephrase - I went to bed at 9pm because I didn't feel well, but here I am a mere few hours later, wide awake. I should know better - whenever I take my meds early, it always screws up my sleep.

I saw Dr. K yesterday and we were talking about how I don't let in love and support. It's like I can't feel it, I put up a wall and everything bounces off. Even though intellectually I know that my therapist, family, and friends care about me, I can't feel it. I feel unlovable. I was on the train yesterday after my sesh and I had a re-realization (don't you love those?). I think a huge part of why I don't feel cared about and lovable is because I'm FAT. No one can love me at this size. At least, that is what ED is telling me. I feel like I don't deserve to be cared about. I feel like people are disgusted by my size and therefore can't care about me. This is a big hurdle I need to get over.

Anyone know what I'm talking about?

It's Time for an Update

Sorry to leave you all hanging since Saturday. It has been a crazy week of feeling like brain matter being spewed all over the place. Good news: I'm not fired!!!! But not so fast, I still don't think I can handle my job full-time. I love it, but it's just too much for me. The job is inherently stressful, but with all my overwhelming emotional suckage I feel like I'm trying to do it with a bunch of rocks in my backpack weighing me down. Ideally I want to go part time, but my boss has told me that that's impossible. At the much anticipated meeting on Tuesday, I learned that the only option is to go to 4 days a week for 30 days and after those 30 days are up I either have to go back to full-time or quit. The major catch being that those 30 days of part-time aren't going to start until they find someone to cover my other clubs - which could be weeks. I need relief NOW, not 3 weeks from now. So, not exactly ideal. Sigh. Hopefully I can make it going full-time until the 4 days a week can start. I really do love my job, I just wish I wouldn't have crying fits at my desk and panic attacks on the bus. I need some coping skills - rephrase: I need to use my coping skills. In the moment though it's soooooo hard, I just give into the overwhelming cacophony of pain, depression, anxiety, and sadness.

Enough about my job.

Oh yeah, and before I go.....

I found out I got into my number one grad school!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Catholic University MSW program starting Fall 2010, baby! Woot Woot! (I guess baraging them with phone calls every week to know the status of my application paid off, hehe.)