Friends come in all shapes, sizes, and species!

Sometimes, when my depression gets really bad, I forget about the depth and variety in my "friend family." These past few weeks, I haven't had much interaction with people outside of my family so dinner with my friend and her family tonight were just what the doctor ordered. Dinner tonight helped me realize that my friends aren't just twentysomethings from college. They're my pets, my sisters, and even my friend's parents. They've been there for me after layoffs, losses, and countless silly, happy times. They understand my "craziness" mostly because they've raised three kids. In the past three years, they've become second parents to me. Don't get me wrong -- I adore my parents and can't go more than two hours without speaking to one or both of them. But for some reason, it's been really great having another family to hang out with. Maybe because it makes me feel normal -- Like no family has it all and that no one ever has it all together. Or maybe it's because they're the exact opposite of my family. Either way, I love that I have friends that I consider family and family that I consider friends.

Oh, Therapy!

I've been going to the same wonderful therapist for over three years now and Wednesday was the first day she actually told me that I looked and seemed depressed. And honestly, I felt it. It was one of those days where I couldn't wake up and couldn't shake the funk I was in. A lot of it has to do with not liking my part-time job. It gives me no motivation to get to bed at a reasonable hour and out of bed before 9am. On top of that, I've had no appetite because of the depression.

I had a three-day weekend that started out terribly, too. I got my first law school rejection. It was from a school in Northern California that shall remain nameless. I was upset at first because it was a bit of a safety school. I didn't realize until later that it was in the top 40 and they may not have gotten my latest (and not so great but better!) LSAT score. Who knows! I slept in till almost 12:30 Saturday mostly because I didn't want to face the day. When I finally did, I went to the mall solo to get something sparkly to cheer myself up. Being unemployed sucks but when you're a bargain shopper like me, I make it work!

I did have a good weekend, though. Lots of sleeping, eating on Sunday (finally!), shopping Saturday (oops), and getting some creative juices flowing with crafts. Hopefully this week will bring better things (and big envelopes!).

Sweetest of dreams,
Melissa

Blah.

So I didn't get the job which leaves me second-guessing everything from my outfit choices to my writing samples. I did ask them to consider me for another open position but still no word.

Not getting the job sent me into a pretty major depression that lasted Thursday night through Saturday. I actually slept till 1pm Saturday. While I'm a self proclaimed "sleep monster," 1pm is WAY late for me. I felt like I had made so many preparations just in case I got the job -- The spiritual healer, acupuncture, etc. that I was finally ready to work again. But secretly, I think I was happy that I didn't get the job so I wouldn't have to put myself and others through another manic "I can't take this job" episode. And, oddly enough, that made me secretly happy. That makes very little sense, I know, but just pretend like you understand.

So that leaves me here. My new unemployment package kicks in next week (I hope) and I'm still waiting for law schools to let me know if I got in. These next few weeks will just involve a lot of sitting and waiting. Oh, and checking the mail box. I'm pretty sure they still send out big and little envelopes like they did back in '01-'02 for undergrad decisions.

Oh, and my friend and I decided to become responsible adults starting tomorrow. That pretty much only involves us getting out of bed by 8am but it's a step! And we're on a mission to only spend money necessary items -- Even if that means saying "no" to cute shoes in order to afford new bath towels. Being an adult sucks sometimes.

Over and out!
Panic Girl

The Rum Diary

Still no word on the job -- Which makes me nervous because they said they needed someone to start ASAP. I even added the company's phone number to my contacts and gave it its own ringtone so I would know when they were calling. I know it takes a while to call references, interview all candidates, and discuss with the team who would be the best choice, but I can't help but think that they offered someone the job and are just too busy to send me a "We're sorry, but..." email.

Part of me can't wait to start working in a real office again -- Cute outfits, shoes, new work friends, a set schedule. But another part of me is terrified. What if I decide the morning of my first day that I can't do it? What if I get sick in the bathroom before I even sit down with HR (again)?

Wow. Subconsciously, I just started my "what if"/catastrophic thinking again. This is what I promised myself I would say each time I let the "what ifs" take over: "What if I could make no mistakes? What if everything turns out ok?" I just had an epiphany of sorts while blogging. A definite first for me.

Back to the matter at hand -- Basically, I can't decide if I really want the job. I know that I need it -- Especially with my despicable LSAT score and no other ad agencies in the metro area are hiring. But having said that, I guess I'm afraid of failure, another layoff, and another unemployment filing.

This all leads me to my favorite quote. If it weren't so long and I weren't so terrified of commitment, I would tattoo it somewhere:

Like most of the others I was a seeker, a mover, a malcontent, and at times a stupid hell-raiser. I was never idle long enough to do much thinking, but I felt somehow that my instincts were right. I shared a vagrant optimism that some of us were making real progress, that we had taken an honest road, and that the best of us would inevitably make it over the top.

At the same time, I shared a dark suspicion that the life we were leading was a lost cause, that we were all actors, kidding ourselves along on a senseless odyssey. It was the tension between these two poles- a restless idealism on one hand and a sense of impending doom on the other- that kept me going.

-Hunter S. Thompson

Reiki and Jin Shin Jytsu

On Saturday, I visited my friend's neighbor, a specialist in what can best be described as the healing arts. When I started this mission to defeat my anxiety and panic disorder, I vowed to try anything and everything so I figured a little spiritual healing couldn't hurt.

I arrived at 11am Saturday morning not sure what to expect. She introduced me to her dogs and had me lay down on a massage table. She turned on some new age "breeze and birds chirping" music and checked my pulses. My body was asking for jin shin jytsu, a form of acupressure, so she went to work. For about an hour and a half, she worked on two pressure points at a time. I became increasingly relaxed and the butterflies in my stomach finally settled after about 15 minutes.

When I was done, I felt relaxed but I think that may have just been a placebo effect. I didn't feel as invigorated as I did with acupuncture but I was definitely more relaxed. Overall, I'm not sure I want to go back -- My feet told her I should go back to her five times. At $60 per session, I'm not sure I can swing it financially. Plus, I'm not sure if I really believe in it. She's an incredibly nice person and she really needs the money, but I would much rather have a massage or more acupuncture.

Overall, my weekend of Eastern medicine was pretty cool. I'll see where the week takes me anxiety-wise and maybe I'll send the spiritual healer an email to book another session.

Such a boring post! Night!
Panic Girl

Acupuncture - My saving grace?

Today I had my first acupuncture treatment. I have been talking about getting it for years (starting with migraines, now for anxiety). I was late because the office was about 45 minutes south of where I live. I, of course, gave myself 30 to get there. I hate being late but lately I can't seem to get out of bed without hitting the snooze for an hour and a half -- no joke.

When I got there, I had to spill my guts to another stranger -- But a stranger I knew I could trust. I gave her the basics: What my anxiety feels like, what triggers it, what I've done to combat it, etc. Then she went to work with the teeny needles. I was already feeling nervous about the potential job offer so being left in a room face down for an hour alone wasn't sitting well with me. Surprisingly, the needles didn't bother me in the slightest.

Towards the end of the treatment, I was actually listening to the subtle nuances in the new-age music and drifting off into a daze. When the acupuncturist came in to remove my needles, I felt refreshed but still hesitant. I knew I shouldn't expect all of my problems to be taken away by two dozen needles. By the time I got to my car, I felt like I was floating. It may have just been the hour of relaxation but I actually felt calm. By the time I got to my "office," I reflected on what I felt like. I felt as though I was buzzing. Like I had this subtle energy running through my body. It may have all been a placebo effect but I felt wonderful regardless.

As for the job, no news yet. Which may be bad news. They're looking to hire ASAP. But who knows with this economy (btw -- I think the phrase "THIS ECONOMY" should be banned. So from here on out, no more "THIS ECONOMY.")

And I'm trying spiritual healing tomorrow. It's with my friend's neighbor. Raised Catholic, my parents were wary when I first told them. But when I assured them this isn't religious, it's not a cult, and no one will own my soul, they warmed up to the idea.

Time for bed! Still sleepy from all the extra Xanax this week. Ompf.
xoxo,
Panic Girl

Blogging Day 2

I had a second interview today with an amazing AMAZING local ad agency. It's the kind of agency I would die to work for but just the thought of them calling me to make me an offer is giving me horrible anxiety. I mean, I don't even know if they want to hire me and I'm freaking out. How insane is that?!?! My therapist put it best when she told me that I think catastrophically. I'm "what if-ing" myself to death.

On top of the job hunt (which wasn't/isn't much of a hunt because of the anxiety), I just applied to 12 (yes, 12) law schools. Only two of which I would consider attending because of the proximity to my comfort zone. I have a feeling that I'll get this job then be forced to choose between law school and the job. This makes me more anxious but I know in my heart that going back to school would be far more beneficial. My student loans would go into deferment and I would be able to land a higher paying job after graduation -- Plus the economy would (hopefully) improved by then.

Overall, I guess I'm scared of the unknown. I'm scared of starting a new job (something that NEVER bothered me in the slightest) and I'm scared to get my acceptance/rejection letters from law schools. But what scares me the most is that I'll never get my anxiety issued behind me. It's a chemical imbalance that can temporarily be fixed with medication but most likely, I'm stuck with it for life. I know that it could always be worse but for me, this is hell. I am in my own mental hell.

However, in my efforts to throw everything against the wall and hope that something sticks, I'm starting acupuncture tomorrow. I'm so beyond excited to try it. After that, I hope to start some spiritual healing but I need to research some people first. I refuse to give up on this! I applied to schools in Southern California and New York and hopefully some day soon, I can say that I'm a student living in Manhattan/San Diego/Los Angeles!

Sweet Xanax dreams,
Panic Girl

My selfish little piece of the Internet

I'm writing this tonight riddled with anxiety. I don't know where to start, so I'm just going to spill it all until the Xanax makes me fall asleep:

Long story short, I get panic attacks. I get panic attacks worrying that I'll have a panic attack. I've lost friends and jobs and now I fear that I'm losing my mind. My anxiety makes me physically ill. I can't control it.

Most days I feel like I'm medicated within an inch of my life. I want to stop taking the Paxil, Colonopin, and Xanax but I'm terrified of the consequences. I want to live my life again. I want to travel. I want to go to Europe and Asia like I did less than ten years ago. I can't even think about going to a friend's wedding less than a two hour drive away without evil bats swarming my stomach.

I was OK in college but a terrible breakup left me in the gutter emotionally and I haven't been able to get out since. I've been laid off from two jobs (one I loved the other I could have done without). Both lay offs left me with this intense fear of starting any job. Twice I've committed to jobs only to fake an illness at the last minute. Then I have to make the embarrassing phone call to the HR director saying that I can't take the job. I'm terrified that this is all a viscous cycle that will end with me living in my parents' basement forever.

I have dreams of grandeur but I'm terrified that those dreams will never be lived out. Law school, traveling, dating a handsome man, marrying and having kids, having the career of my dreams -- sports agent. I don't want to wake up one day and realize that I'm 50 and never did a single thing because of this anxiety. I've heard all of the cliches about life, love, etc. In fact, I've heard them so often, I resent them.

So there. That is my first virtual diary entry. It may not be coherent but I don't know if anyone will even read it. But if you are out there, comment. Let me know you've been where I've been.