suddenly, I can't spend time sleeping or eating or breathing. Working is EXTREMELY hard. I'm a phone rep so I'm currently begging my boss (who's not even here yet) to let me work off the phone today. I can't concentrate. Last night, I fell asleep around 2 after watching a couple hours of different make up techniques on youtube.
OH YOUTUBE!
I came to work today with no make up on. Woke up at 5. Did a load of laundry danced around the house. I've missed my medicine three times in seven days. I don't want to see my boyfriend. He asked if I stopped taking my medicine. I told him to *&^% himself. I lock myself in my room when I'm home. All I can think about it dying. I'm terrified that I'll slip and fall in the bathtub so I've been avoiding a shower. I thought about getting dirt and sprinkling it on the floor so I don't fall, but that sounds crazy. There's no reason someone like me has to be on Lithium, Lamictal, Remeron, Celexa, and Klonopin. The pills make my stomach upset. If I hadn't of been stupid and exhausted my FMLA until October I would be lying on my bed and taking enough Klonopin to quiet my own voice. I can hear the ocean. I see my tdoc tomorrow. I know this is my fault. I see my pdoc on 8-15. He doesn't care about me. My life has been over for a long time and I don't know how to jumpstart it. I've been throwing away things all week. I wonder if that's on par with "purging." Metaphorically throwing my life away...what of it? Carrie Fisher understands, "Come with ME. I've got an AMAZING idea."
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ONE email lets all of your coworkers know you're crazy. Stay away from the reply all button. My head is spinning.
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They know I haven't been doing my mandatory overtime. Eight hours extra when I can barely be here 40 without rolling into a ball and crying. It's too much. I'm going to lose my job. The woman who's in charge of keeping track of the overtime is helping me. She knows something is wrong, but she's too polite to ask. I can feel my blood moving under my skin.