the grocery store

I was doing fine until this evening. Now I feel panicky and twitchy. In an effort to combat my panicky and twitchy feeling I took myself to the grocery store. I had forgotten a few items on the first trip to the store so I thought it was a good time to go back out.

In an odd, but helpful turn of events, my shopping list landed me in the refrigerated and freezer aisles, a perfect place to get grounded with the cold temperature!

First, I needed iced tea.

That unsweetened tea sells rather quickly, as you can see! People are learning that unsweetened is better.

Then I needed yogurt, which was across from the tea.

I got lucky. They had my Fage Plain 0% Fat yogurt. It often runs out! I had my items and started heading to cash out when I noticed the ice cream aisle. So, of course, I headed for some ice cream.

Is that Edy’s Slow Churned Vanilla Bean in the single serving size? Yes it is! Am I lactose intolerant? Yes, I am, but that’s why they invented lactaid pills.

Going to the grocery store was a good distraction, and I got the items I previously forgot, minus the ice cream. That was a bonus impulse buy. I am not completely out of the triggery panicky woods, but I think I’m better off by having gone to the store, and I’m certainly not worse off for the trip.

Everyday we do the best we can.

the dark tunnel …

Entering the catacombes in Paris, a long, dark...

I’m in that dark tunnel with no end, no way out. Too many things feel like a catastrophe. I’m walking and walking and walking and there is no way out. It just goes on forever.

My heart is in my throat. And the reason for all this drama … My new psychiatrist told me that I have to give up my current therapist. It’s not an unusual request, but I feel like the bottom just fell out from under me. My therapist has been the one constant I’ve had for the past six years. The only insight I have is that this news along with moving my office at work has sent me spinning. I admit that it does not make sense, and that these seem like insignificant things in the greater scheme of things, especially the office move. But, still, here I am freaked out. Insignificant or not, stupid or not, I am still a wreck.Apparently these things are triggers for me.

I can’t think anymore today. My body is racked with aches from shaking so hard, and crying. I don’t want to be like this, yet here I am. This is a short post because I need to sleep.

A Move

This was one of those very bad days. Let’s be clear, it was a historically bad day in the history of my bad days, and that’s saying quite a bit. Where to begin? Perhaps with some context …

Moving, any kind of moving has been a trigger for me for the longest time. I don’t know if it has to do with my childhood fear of homelessness, as that’s the only clue I have as why moving is so upsetting to me. Moving a residence, an office cube, even a bedroom is triggering for me. I wish it weren’t. Honestly, I do. Truly, I feel like a nut case that needs to be put away because this is such an issue for me.

So, where am I moving? Out of the state? Across the street? No, that would actually make a bit of sense. I am moving from one office cube to another on a different floor, and I was a basket case today about it, an authentic loca woman. I’ve been freaky friday stressed about it with all the packing and distraction from my work. However, today was the breaking point with the discovery that the area that I indicated would be best for me was given to another colleague who was asked if they wanted the very same cube. Yes, for normal people this would not be a breaking point. I get that completely. However, when I saw that I was sitting right in the middle in the midst of racket and noise I just fell apart. I felt disregarded and dismissed.

I started to get that feeling like I was in a tunnel of which I could not escape. I’ll spare you the details except to say that I melted and cried and felt floaty.

I wish I could have remembered how to do the tapping technique during this mess, and a mess it sure was.

We just have to get though this. I can get through this.

I have to convince myself that moving my cube is not homelessness. It’s not. It’s just moving from one work space to another. That is all. Nothing more.