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So I made it in to work today.
Not that there was really any doubt. I would have to have been dying myself to stay home again, but the thought was a real good one. Staying home, that is. Not dying. I�m depressed, not suicidal.
I�ve managed to make it through the first 9.5 hours of my workday with only four tearful episodes. Of course, my resolve is wearing thin. This last half hour is going to be a bitch.
Earlier today, I sent an email out to a number of my friends and family, people who have, over the past few weeks, experienced the Jennifer Shutout, who have called or written or emailed and gotten no response. I�ve just been�unable.
The thing is, I don�t know that I realized just how deep in it I am. �Just last night I was reminded of just how bad it had gotten and just how sick I had become�� (Thank you, Violent Femmes�) In truth, though�I really hadn�t. I met with the woman from EAP back now two months ago. She gave me a couple referrals. Neither of them worked out. I let myself perceive that as a sign that I didn�t really need to go.
Instead, I autopiloted myself to mid-June. And that�s the funny thing. I think that if you�re functioning on a basic level, if you�re getting out of bed and brushing your teeth and making yourself look presentable and getting yourself through the bare-bones minimum that you have to do each day without losing your job or making people get too worried about you, it�s extremely easy to convince yourself that you�re okay. Even when you aren�t. And I most certainly am not. People who are okay aren�t afraid to leave their houses. People who are okay don�t have piles of not-quite-finished work on their desks as high as the one on mine. The slightest bit of resistance doesn�t become an insurmountable barricade to someone who is okay.
No, I am unquestionably not okay.
But at least I now KNOW that I�m not okay�
More than half of the people I sent the email to answered me back. I truly have wonderful friends and a family I wouldn�t trade for anything. All of them offered me love and support and whatever I needed without trying to force anything on me, which was exactly what I needed them to do. I know a couple of you will read this�thank you so very much for being as excellent as you are!
Carla said that when she read my news about Clyde, she got a mental image of a Jenga game. Like everything that has happened has pulled another block out of the Jennifer tower, and Clyde was the block that brought it tumbling down. It was a pretty apt metaphor.
But the good thing about hitting that ground, I guess, is that it gives you a chance to survey what�s worth saving and go up from there.
Friday, I have an appointment with Wendy. The guy my mom has been seeing for her grief counseling gave me Wendy�s name. She called me back quickly, and with very little problem found a good time for me in her schedule. One block back in the tower.
Next week, after I�ve seen her, she�ll call my doctor and discuss medication with him. This is something I�ve been very resistant to in the past, but I also haven�t found myself in a place where everything makes me cry before. Well, at least, not places like that where I�ve decided to get myself some help. The memory of the days where I would get up, act like I was going to school, and then go back to bed and hide in the house all day after my mom left, only to tell her in detail about my day at Northeastern is not so far off in my head. I needed medication then. I didn�t get it. Instead, I flunked out of school and cried all the time. I don�t want to do that again.
So, yeah. If it seems like something they recommend for me, I�ll take it. Another block in the tower.
I sat down with Donna first thing this morning to touch base with her. I apologized for never coming in yesterday (my voicemail message to her said I would eventually be in, and I didn�t call her back. I just couldn�t), and told her that I wasn�t okay, but that I was getting some help in dealing with that. She offered me a ton of support and anything I needed. I walked out of her office feeling better. That makes a tower foundation.
My email message had a twofold purpose�one, I needed people to know I still wanted them as my friends, and two, I needed them to understand that I�m not going to be extremely accessible for a while. The support I got back builds another row.
So the good thing is, there�s hope. Light at the end of the tunnel and all that. Which is good, since I have other things I should be concentrating on. Like the fact that there are only 66 sleeps until the wedding. That�s not many sleeps at all.
Good things on the horizon. I know there are.
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