I worked Friday night, I honestly feel like I’ve had my final straw with work. I just can’t take the frustration and stress of it all. I’m in need of something else.
So I’ve been applying to different jobs, which is one reason why I’m attempting to write a real resume. Good luck with that.
I feel like I would be well suited for retail or a secretarial position!
So, this weekend was ok. My mom and her gf came over Saturday afternoon. It was nice to see them, so I called in. I didn’t want to deal with everything, plus, I wasn’t feeling well at all. They stayed the night, a first in a very long time. It was refreshing. We spent the day together Sunday, and I called in again.
My anxiety was up Saturday. But I was mostly ok. I felt…crazy, because I was stressing out. I wanted to just die. It was stupid. But I was mad and hurt and anxious. I want to hurt someone or myself, or just crawl in a corner and die. Hubby held me, tight. And every time that I tried to pull away he would hold me closer. “Call the doctor Monday.” he said.
Sunday, my anxiety was really high. I felt an attack coming on. It was getting hard to breathe, my heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest. Hubby gave me an anxiety pill. It helped, a little. But as the day wore on, it got worse. The hard to breathe feeling was back. Hubby asked me why I was upset. The sad thing was, I have no idea what was going on. I was upset. Nervous. It’s a bad feeling when that happens. I hate the fact that I’m like this. A huge part of it has to do with my job, I just know it. I feel like if I had a different job, a different place, things might be better.
I tried to call the doctor today. And I dialed the number, even made it through the automated system. Then I hung up. I can’t make the call. I’m tired of making the calls. Tired of everyone acting like I’m crazy. I’m not crazy, I just need help.