Chapter Twenty-Eight

Today was the day I thought I was to return to work. I've been given a one day reprieve and I start tomorrow. So today will be spent creating things, with some minor errand running. Getting out in the world.

There is a fine line between acknowledging your nervousness, or fright level, and giving it too much power. To ignore fear is to give it room to grow and take you out from behind. Don't suppress, manage. I need to recognize my early signs. My arms start itching, this really weird pain in my shoulder, sweating. Those are the early signs for me. Then I start shaking, then I stop breathing. I'm re-learning how to just acknowledge, oh look, i'm a little nervous. And just let the nervous be. Don't feed it. Get my brain busy on something else. Hello fear, you can not kill me. You are just a feeling. Take my brain to Burning Man, or to Lillian waking me up with baby kisses and snuggles, or to that morning's shower with Ken. Breathe in two three four, breathe out two three four, take good food with me, write posters of affirmations and pin them all over my cubicle so I can just look at one and breathe and concentrate on healthy thoughts. Don't let the fear start snowballing in my brain.

The one thing I know is that I could not recover without assistance. I needed, and still need, medical assistance for medications, therapeutic assistance from an objective person to guide me through the confusion of my brain, and the love and support of Ken and my family and friends. I am fortunate to have good health care insurance to assist me in my recovery. This mental illness thing is not cheap, and is a grey area in coverage. As witnessed by my two insurance companies both not wanting to cover my leave. If I had fallen and broken my leg, there is no doubt of my coverage. However it was not my leg that was broken, it was my brain. Appeals will be filed. I find it interesting that to get help and time to recover from my stress issues, I have to put myself into stressful, vulnerable positions. There are no advocates or union reps to assist you.

I'm having to learn a new way of thinking about work. It is just not in my makeup to not care. I almost have to pull out some old alanon tricks. Care, with detachment. I am not responsible for what my department has been turned into. All I can do is help the person in front of me to the best of my abilities. I need to remember I am not the person my boss and manager tell me I am. I am a hard working loyal employee that cares about my co-workers and my department. I know my truth and it is not their distortions or half truths. I need to remember that we are not a family. I do this work, you give me a paycheck. I do not have to buy into the games.

Today I go to the Texas Tech campus here in the Burg and see what else they need to help me finish my degree. This won't get me out of the situation i'm in right away, but it's a step towards future control. I will have a few more opportunities with a degree. I am also going to flesh out my business plan a bit more. Rents in this town are crazy for commercial space. But I can't let that stop me from putting the plan together and seeing what happens.

My short term memory is still shot. This recorder has become a savior for me already and I haven't even started work yet. I can replay what Ken wanted, or where Sarah said she was going. I'm not needing it as much as I was last week, which gives me hope that my brain is recovering slowly. I have bought many notebooks and pens, and I have lost just as many. I put them down and they go poof into the air. The recorder seems to just stay in my purse.

And this week is a time of sadness for my anyway. We are coming up on the anniversary of the death of Craig. My dear friend's sweet son who left us entirely too soon. I wanted him to fall in love with one of my girls so my grandchildren could have his blue eyes and sweet smile. I wanted to watch him continue to bloom into the fabulous man he was becoming. I want to hug him again. Dear sweet boy, you are loved and you are missed.