I hate what he has done to me

So I knew this wasn't going to be a linear process, that there would forward steps, backward steps and loop the loops in-between.   I'm troubled by the unpredictability of the roller coaster, it's like I've lost control of myself. As a self confessed control-freak that is not good. 

Tuesday I went to work as normal, and was fine, did clinics all day and coped.  Yesterday, I woke with a sense of foreboding and the anxiety was rising even as I stepped in the shower.  By the time I was setting up my clinic room my heart was racing and I was having to do breathing exercises. Looking at my first patient's records I could barely concentrate on what I was reading, which made the panic worse as now I was worried about making a mistake.   I managed to see two patients and had the rest sent home, where I quickly headed also at 10.30am. 

90 minutes I managed, out of an eight hour day.  Walking back to my car in tears I told Mark how much I hated what he had done to me.  Because he has.  Life was normal, then he decided to die, now life is shit and I'm a mess.  I can't even do my friggin' job properly. Heck, I can't even walk into the building without triggering anxiety. 

It's irrational., and it's unpredictable. One day I'll be OK, the next I really won't and there's no way to know which way any given day is going to go.  Which makes it very difficult to ask for adjustments at work to make it OK.  What will make it OK? I don't bloody know. I don't think it can ever be OK which is why I have resigned.   After 15 years I really want to see out my notice period and not have to go back off sick.  But I don't know if I can.  Today I'm working from home doing admin and audit.  I got to lunchtime and now I need a nap.  It's mentally and physically exhausting, and so hard to explain to someone who hasn't experienced grief or anxiety. 

I can hear in my head all the people who love me telling me to be kind to myself, take the nap, it doesn't matter if I only work half a day today, it's better to do a good half days work than a crap full day.  I know.  So why do I feel guilty like a teenager skiving off school?


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