failure

That should be the name of this thing.  Big, fat (emphasis on the obese) failure.

I had a good week.  My clients and I did some amazing work. 

Tuesday was chock full of accomplishment. I did the laundry.  Grocery shopping done, and within budget.  Bills are paid with enough left over to have coffee with my friends on Saturday; I might even be able to buy breakfast.  I went to the pharmacy and managed to fix a payment issue with them.  They were charging me more than my Part D co-pay.  Whilst I will not receive any kind of refund for the months of overcharges, from now on I will be saving nearly sixty dollars each month.  Yay.  Plus, all three of those errands are in the same little shopping center.

On my way out of there, I saw a storefront for an income tax service, so I stopped in to ask some questions.  My ex still is not complying with the court requirements that he provide me with his income information so that I can file my tax returns.  No big surprise, because not only has he never complied with anything yet, I am certain that he is withholding the information because I declined to file joint returns with him so that he could reduce his tax liability payment.  Whatever.

Anyway, the information I received from the tax preparation guy is that there is a way to stay in compliance with the final divorce decree order regarding taxes without receiving the information from my ex.  That means that I will not have to struggle at the last moment when the returns are due in a month.  I just have to check with my attorney and then gather some municipality information, have my landlord complete some paperwork and with a relatively few dollars, I can go back there and get this done.  Big yay.

All of that success and good feelings was swept away by this morning.  I felt great, and drove to my therapy appointment.  As I was getting out of the car, there was a man across the street.  He was shouting, yelling and cursing into his cell phone.  I got partially back into the car and waited until he was on the next block.  He really scared the shit out of me, totally and completely outside any kind of reasonable response.  I was able to plug the meter and go inside.

After sitting in the reception area, I noticed that the door was not locked.  It always is, to prevent anyone who is not supposed to be there from wandering in, unintentionally or not.  I told the receptionist "I just noticed that the door is unlocked."  She told me that sometimes she does not lock it when the traffic in and out of the building was heavy.  She was nearly shouting at me.  Everyone is shouting today.  I thanked her and said that it was not a criticism, just something that I noticed.  She then went into a little rant about why she chooses to do this and I again apologized and said that I had not intended it to be a big deal or anything.  She continued to rant at me until one of the therapists came into the room. 

The two of them chatted for a bit, and when the therapist noticed that the door was unlocked, she asked the receptionist if she wanted it locked, she did, and the door was locked.  After the therapist left, the receptionist started back in on me.  That part is amazing.  She knows that all of us are there for struggles and difficulties of some significant kind, and she does this kind of thing all the time, although that is only a guess because I am there only on Thursdays and have seen her treat people poorly, hugely insensitively many times, including another woman this morning who was panicking because her ride home had disappeared.  Stuck there, waiting for my therapist who was caught in a meeting that was going late. Crazy making in a place where regular crazy is the norm.  I had a little crystal shard in my coat pocket.  I took it out and used it to lower my panic.  I looked at it, gazed through the crystal and finally got my breathing back to normal.  It gave me something else on which to focus.  It was so pretty, shining there in the sunlight, colors reflecting from my coat and other things in the room.  I felt calmer.  I felt able to work with the shorter session.  I was going to be fine.  I could go to the truncated session, attend the support group after and be fine.

Another woman arrived and said that she had an appointment with my therapist and I kind of lost it.  I was in nearly full-blown panic mode, all of this fear and feelings of insignificance and that I needed to allow that new woman to take what was left of my appointment time because whilst my crap was being held inside, she was visibly in need, and I decided to leave a message for my therapist and leave.  Before I could do that, she came in the room and told the other woman that she would be with her shortly, and apologized for being late.  I told her that it was not a problem, and that I really did not need a session today, and that I would see her next week.  I was terrified about letting my panic show, further embarrass myself, so I left.  As I was getting in my car, my therapist came out and offered an afternoon session, but I declined.  I said that I would see her next week.  I knew that once I was home that I would not be able to leave again.  I was so shaky that I could not drive for, I do not know, maybe fifteen minutes.  I could have spent that time freaking out in therapy, instead I was stuck in the car.

So, now I have created tension between us, as she kept apologizing when it was not anything about her, but exclusively about my inability to handle even one, single, damn insignificant disturbance in my day.  I totally suck.  I freaked out and missed a therapy session that I really needed today.  I messed with the receptionist and my therapist, imposing my own pathology on them.  I felt so out of control.  It was only as I was calming enough to drive home that I realized that the cell phone man was the catalyst for the entire mess.

I think that I will never be well again.  I will always struggle with the ptsd and the just regular life for other people stuff that triggers my fears.  A whole fucking year and I can be tossed back into the worst of my life.  I am not making any progress, not any real kind if I keep allowing all of this stupid stuff to destroy me. 

I am spiraling and do not think that I will be able to leave the house for a while.  I can think clearly about this, recognize and evaluate the core trigger today, cell phone man, but I cannot stop the physical things that happen with this whole panic problem.  I am so stuck.  I will have to call my friend and cancel our outing on Saturday to use the home and garden show tickets that the woman who sold the house sent to me.  How pathetic I am to not be able to handle this kind of stuff.  What a mess.  The only good thing that might come out of this is that I feel really weepy.  Maybe I can make this into something useful by dwelling, wallowing in it and maybe I can make myself cry about it.  That would be so wonderful.

I did some meditation before signing on to the computer, ate two fried eggs.  So, I am calmer, but I am not out of the process yet, as I am craving carbs.  I want potatoes and popcorn, I have those.  I want candy, something with sugar in it, I do not have that.  Not being able to leave the house will help here, small favors.  I am going to go and peel a bag of carrots and eat all of them.  Then, I will have a couple of cups of green tea.  Then, I will probably pop some corn, but maybe not, at least I am trying.  I have been taking all of my meds, taking vitamins and extra B-complex and eating really, really cleanly.  Just meat, vegetables and salad.  No junk at all.  Even the pumpkin bread I made is mostly eggs, nuts and pumpkin.

I just now left a voice mail message for my therapist.  Explained that it was not anything about what happened there, but that it was all about cell phone guy, and that I would see her next week.

I think that what bothers me most is what a snivelling, self absorbed piece of crap I am.  I have until Tuesday to pull my self together.  I really do have to get better at all of this.