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juggernaut
November 25, 2013, 8:01 P.M.
I am feeling crushed by a gigantic, inexorable force that is relentless in its destruction.
Let me 'splain.
No--is too much. Let me sum up:
Found out Thursday that my SIL, E, is going through a health crisis--stomach and chest pains, probably relating to her bad heart valves. Undergoing lots of tests, starting on nitro for the angina. Lots of worries and uncertainties there, and I have no idea what is going on for the holiday at this point, if she is feeling so bad. I think P is having a lot of trouble, too--like me, his own, very real health issues always seem to take a back seat to the health issues he married.
So that weighs on my mind.
I missed work on Friday, not because of my health, but Spouse's. After three days of listening to the guy with the DVTs whine about chest pains, I got up on Friday, promptly got fed up, and forcibly dragged him in to the hospital. Spent 5 hours hanging around while he was shuttled between his doctor, a CT scan, an ultrasound, and back to his doctor. Verdict: not a pulmonary embolism, probably related to his stress, anxiety, and depression. Doctor changed his medication, wrote him a note, and sent him home.
And the guy who just got done spending half his day at the hospital with chest pains stopped to have a bacon cheeseburger for lunch. (And I have a horrible suspicion that he just blew off another job, since he never seems to be getting a paycheck.)
He starts some therapy on the 5th, at least. I forced the issue last week, set off by the fact that a bill collector called me at work. I went home and blew my stack, brought things to a head, and got him to call about setting it up.
So there is that whole set of things beating on me with both fists.
And there is this:
On Saturday, I found out from my mom that her cancer has metastasized to her lung and they gave her 3 to 6 months to live if she doesn't have chemo. Maybe a year, if she did, but she would be very sick from the treatment. I cried, not because I found out she is dying, but because SHE found out she is dying. I've known it for a year now, but I think it is just sinking in for her.
They said she would be lucky to get another year and a half from the surgery last December, and it looks like she is going to be hitting that mark fairly close.
And of course, work is just one more thing to wear me down.
The hocking, hacking, snorting, human phlegmball has stepped up his annoyance game with lots of loud phone calls. In Urdu.
The Train-Wreck, who gets many cellphone calls, has changed her ringtone to mewing kittens. (have I mentioned that this woman is a 2ndVP?)
I am starting to suspect that the reason I get all these gems sitting near me is that the company knows of my noise issues, and is using it against me. The seating chart is a subtle attempt to get me to quit.
Same with the whole "let's wait until she's at max load & ready to snap, and then send her traveling" thing.
So...When is it an anxiety disorder? If you have a long list of legitimate worries, annoyances, and irritations, and just plain sadness bearing down on you, can it really be called an anxiety problem?
I think what I really have is SLS--shitty life syndrome.
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