Broken glass

It began on Monday. I had no energy for anything. I called out. Tuesday I felt the same way and when I decided that I wasn't going to make class I needed to go to the Dr.'s.

This one was new, and I miss my old P.C.P. She spent a total of 10 minutes with me, and I swear there was a glower in her eyes. It sucks being a psych patient and presenting. You can see it in their eyes. The hatred. The lack of understanding. It is projected in, "What the fuck is wrong with you?" and their immediate own answer of "Nothing." The blood work supports this idea.

I have no energy. Dr. Curry* tells me I can go to work. She doesn't even ask what I do. She must assume I work at some desk pushing pencils all day. This is the first day I am able to focus long enough to write anything. Let's see... Let me go deal with a bunch of paranoid schizophrenics and manic bipolars when I can barely attend and respond to stimulation. Bright fucking idea. I quickly told her that there was no way I could do my job and then told her what I did. She begrudgingly agreed with the intonation of disapproval. This is why I miss my old PCP. She got it. She understood how fucked up the place is where I work. She knew I need a break once in a while.

So, if it's not thyroid or Lyme disease or a bacterial infection that's making me feel this way, then what the fuck is it? How about severe depression? How about I just ended a relationship that I thought was going to last the rest of my life? How about the fact that I am grieving, and beginning to weed out that psychological garden of all the past mistakes in my life? Are any of these reasons to miss work? How about I can barely cope with my own shit, let alone anyone else's right now? How about getting out of bed and showering are difficult slow tasks that are taking longer than they should?

I can't get my ass to the barn. I sit for hours and stare off into space. I have intrustive thoughts. I cry at everything and anything. I am pushing myself to be productive. I went to wash the dishes from the company I had Wednesday.

I held my grandmother's glass in my hands. It had cracked. I cried. She was my protector from my father. The thoughts snow ball from there followed by tears.