Fighting

I am having some serious anxiety over this job interview tomorrow. I’ve already talked to myself about not even showing up and just pretending I did. I’ve already played out a scenario in my head that I won’t get the job. My mind is NOT my best friend right now. Yet, I am fighting it. Each and every thought I’m fighting with all my might.

It has been a long while since I have had a weekly job, let alone one that I will have to train for. And especially one that is dominated by men.

Mentally I’m a hot mess. I have bipolar disorder, depression, PTSD, anxiety, and when everything is out of my control, my OCD kicks in. Physically I am a hot mess too. Fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, bad arthritis in my back. Some days I can’t move. How in the HELL do I think I am going to keep a job that I am on my feet all day?

But I fight it. “You don’t even know if you have the job yet, calm the HELL down!”

I can’t medicate while at work, because everything makes me drowsy.

Mentally, I’ve been hyper-ventilating for 3 days.

Then the mom guilt kicks in…
I’m taking away my kids child-hood from them.
I’m taking away the opportunity for my oldest son to get a job.
I’m changing the household dynamics.
I will be getting home at home-work time.

But I fight it. I tell myself to shut the hell up and take an ativan. I tell myself to breathe.

I can’t believe I can’t handle this! I can’t believe how out of control my anxiety has gotten.

I know I’m going to get the job, just because I am freaking out so bad.

How am I going to deal with taking direction from a male? Cuz yeah, did I mention I have anxiety over males with an authority role? My husband calls them “daddy issues”.

I am a hot fucking mess, trying to pretend to be normal.

But I am fighting it.

I don’t think my husband understands. How do I make him understand? Do I even want him to understand? We kind of have pissing contests about who is more fucked up in the head. He has never shared anything with me, but he seems to keep it all together in a nice tight bow. Me? Not so much.

But I fight it. Continuously. Ferociously, Incessantly. Is this how I have to live the rest of my life? I am so tired of fighting.

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