So yeah, about that feeling okay thing…

Yesterday started out good. Mind frame good, anxiety manageable, no gloom cloud overhead for the first time in days.
And then it started. Ya know, reality.
I soo want that shirt: “Shit happens…usually to me.”

First, R’s car broke down on the way back from the out of town dentist, so I had to go fetch him. Going to an unfamiliar unspecified location…Yeah, panic incident number one.

Then my mood started to slide as the anxiety rose and it hit me…I forgot to take my meds this morning. (Hey, I can only get so many things right per day, I drop the ball a lot.) I had none stashed in my pill case. So the slide began. People made me paranoid and nervous. Phone made me jump. I spent much time in back smoking, farrr away from any living being.

I hit my wall by 3pm. The cats had run out of food that morning, I was worried about them being hungry. My stomach was a knotted mess so I thought stepping away, taking my meds, maybe the break would help.
And halfway to get cat food…The car sputters, goes pow, shoots smoke out the back and just dies. In the road. I managed to steer it off to the side but was still in the way and self conscious as hell and panicking.
Awesome. I called my dad (in hopes of talking to stepmonster but she was gone) and he starts yelling at me, like it’s my fault when cars have problems. Thankfully this beckoned stepmonster who’d I rather deal with anyway since she’s the one that does the auto work while he stands and grumbles about her doing it wrong. Meaning, not his way. Idget.
In a moment of random what the fuckness, I actually had two perfect strangers ask if I needed help or a phone. And I was just….floored. Because last few times I’ve had car trouble no one’s been arsed to even look my way. That nice people exist…always boggles my mind. How jaded am I?
Anyway…R and stepmonster pushed the car into a parking lot, then we went back to the shop. My kid was with stepmonster of course so while all this attempt at multiple car repair by them was going on, I had her and people bringing tvs into the shop and my kid was whining and yapping and…Yeah, that on top of my dad throwing out that it could be the timing gone out on the car thus making it fucked…
I was in panic zone. I’d spilled something on myself so I was wet and sticky. I hadn’t had my meds. I was worried about the poor hungry cats. Pretzel gut was in full effect. Meanwhile I have all these people around me telling me to chill out and not worry about it. WTF? I think calmly freaking out (oxymoron?) was an appropriate response. But to the mundanes without mental issues, it is just that simple.
So the whole time they were with my car and I awaited the death knoll…I was sweating so bad I couldn’t even have a cigarette because my palms would have made it soggy. And it was that nervous sweat that makes everything smell musty. More self consciousness thrown in with an impending sense of doom over the car. (You have a hell of a time getting around this town without a car.) And my kid was fussing about wanting to stay another night at my dad’s so like I purposely broke the car to ruin her fun.
GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

The good news is, R seems to think he knows what the problem is with the car and should be an easy fix because the part is under warranty.
Bad news is…Um, yeah, I have no wheels atm and oh yeah, about a dozen people got to witness me in huffing puffing deer in headlights panic mode. Fortunately they just thought I was very busy and in a rush. That’s how all the store clerks see me because I am always feverish to get what I need and flee back to the bubble.
Grrr.
By the time stepmom brought us home I was livid. And oddly, it wasn’t mood. I mean, I was fairly solid as far as the mood went so while irritating, car trouble isn’t the end of the world. It was the anxiety that just kicked my ass.
Rather than sink into self pity, I took a shower, regrouped for five minutes, then made cheesy bread for supper. Then I have my kid a bath, a friend stopped by, and a day filled with shit happenings seemed like par for the course. Especially the part where I slept in two hours bursts, my kid woke up screaming six times, and I wake still exhausted and running on auto pilot. Good times.
THIS is what a good mood gets me.
The difference is, when I am mentally solid and rational, I can cope, even if it’s a sweating hyperventilating panic attacked mess of coping mechanism.
On the days the mental frame is not solid…Those are the days I come flying apart and the shrapnel rains down. And I have more of those days than solid ones.

Okay. Rant done. I think.
Shall see what today brings. R is going to take time off work to go fix my car, which reminds me…he can be irksome but he really is good to me and why do I get so damned angry and petty at times?
Damn it, I can’t handle people being nice to me, it throws me off. How fifty shades of fucked up is that.

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