What happened yesterday:
2:30—I decide I'm feeling bad enough to go home.
3:30—I get home. i putz around, till...
4:00—I decide to call the insurance company for authorization to see a therapist. I have an overwhelming fear of mental health professionals in general, and talking to them in particular. So this took all the guts I had and then some, since I knew I'd have to go through the intake process on the phone with a complete stranger. I keep myself calm by pretending I'm calling a number that isn't the insurance company. I get put on hold for ten minutes, get asked a lot of questions, get put on hold again, and then get asked lots more questions by the actual intake psychologist. By this time I'm so rattled by the whole process and so out of my mind with fear that I only manage to mumble that I'm feeling "really, really sad". I try to explain that this episode has lasted for about six months, but I've been depressed in general since I was eleven, at least, but since at this point I can't hear myself talk, I'm not sure how successful the explanation is.
Now, keep in mind that I knew this was going to be very hard and very, very frightening. I figured that Shannon would be home soon, and he'd be able to hold me and calm me down if I needed it. and by the time I got off the phone, having procured authorization and referral to a therapist, i needed it. badly.
4:30—I spend a couple of hours wrapped up tightly in my quilt, trying to stop shaking. The wrapping-up is something I use to simulate being held, when there's nobody around to hold me. I finally manage to calm myself down enough to come put of the cocoon, though not enough to think about eating, though I'm famished.
6:30—I log on. I watch TV. I generally kill time. i try not to think about the fear-reaction that's still going on inside of me.
10:00—I take a shower and get ready for bed.
10:45—I begin to wait for Shannon to get home. I curl around my teddy bear, I pet the cats, I jump up and look out the window every time I hear a car slow or someone walking outside. I continue waiting.
2:30 AM—I decide it's late enough to page Shannon. He's at Abbe's house, and has obviously been woken up by my page. He tells me he left me voicemail at work...about two hours after I left. Something "came up". I don't bother trying to get him to tell me what was so important that he broke his promise to be home every night except nights where he absolutely had to work.
2:45—I try to sleep. it doesn't work. I go hole up under the stairs and cry for a while. Then i log in, waiting for the rest of the night hours to crawl by. At some point, tears stop running down my face and i'm grateful for that. At this point, i know there's no hope of me getting any sleep whatsoever. Shannon had promised to be there for me when I made this call...and he wasn't. I thought I would make him proud of me by doing something he knew I was terrified of doing. He didn't sound too proud on the phone.
I finally went to work at about 7 AM.
Somehow, i don't think I'm going to have the courage to call and actually make an appointment with my assigned therapist. it was so scary just to get the authorization, and it doesn't seem like Shannon is willing to give me any help on this. I think i've pretty much run out of courage for the moment. I haven't eaten for two days now, I've not gotten anything like a good night's sleep since sometime last week.
This, my friends, is what is known as a tailspin. I just hope the crash doesn't hit too hard....
michelle posted this today:
May 12, 1998 16:01 from Aradia Silvermoon
Okay, do -not- listen to "Black Dove" while looking at Kris's page.
talk about twist.
[Non Sequitur> msg #783249
I'm still not sure what to think.