Today was definitely a wrong side of the bed day. Last week I saw my doctor and decided to drop the dose on my meds as I’ve realised I want to come off them soon. Dropping the dose can always have effects: today it felt like I had a migraine without any pain. It was a fight just to get out of bed. In work I could hardly move or talk to anybody. I was upset and on edge all day for no reason. When A started with his wisecracks, making everyone on the floor laugh unreasonably loud, I had to put my headphones in, something I wouldn’t normally do when it’s A. Normally I love the banter and recently I’ve enjoyed being at the very heart of it, building up a double act to rival them all. Today I wanted no part of it. My disease was shutting me in, increasing my hypersensitivity to the point where I was seeing malice in other’s eyes where there was no malice.
I had to make myself invisible today. I was that sixteen year old again, putting up the barriers to defend myself against a hostile world that didn’t want me. The facade of a happy normal life seemed to crumble today and I saw things how they really always were: the world doesn’t like me, it never liked me, I’ll always be truly alone. People who didn’t know me would probably have thought I was a bit weird, given how chatty and funny I was just yesterday. People who do know me must see these moods and realise it’s nothing to do with them it’s just me being me. I hope they see that, anyway.
When it happens it comes on just like a headache, starting off mild first thing in the morning then getting increasingly severe as I’m exposed to more and more of the world. By lunchtime I was in the toilet, locked in the cubicle trying to breathe and steady myself. I felt ill as well which didn’t help, probably because of the heat. I’ve done that a few times occasionally, locked myself away in the toilet cubicle, it sort of seems to help but it’s difficult to tell exactly to what extent.
I heard nothing today about the job I applied for last night. I wasn’t expecting to hear anything yet, but of course it would have been nice to get some good news. When I saw S, the head of the product department who would be my new manager, I clammed up and couldn’t even look at him. I saw my future resting precariously in his hands; I wanted to run up to him and ask him what was going on; I remain paralysed to the spot until he’d gone.
I might not particularly want a new challenge and a new role, given how comfortable I really am in the current position. But I knew today that I needed something new. I feel like I’m running myself into the ground with all this stress. I need a break, at the very least. It’s a good job I’m on holiday from next week (only two weeks to go until Spain yay!) but then the holidays will be over all too soon, it will be the start of the long Christmas season, and I’ll be back to feeling this way before I even know it.
This afternoon some people were talking about a party the CEO’s having at his posh local mansion at the weekend. I hadn’t known there was going to be a party at the CEO’s house – I didn’t get an invite and I wouldn’t have wanted to go anyway – hearing people talk about it really bugged me and I was forced to keep my headphones in until it was time to go home. There’s no doubt it will be a boozy affair, my idea of hell, yet for some incredible reason I’m still managing to feel left out. I mean, what is it with me? Am I scared that I’ll never have made it in this company until I’ve been invited to the CEO’s house? Maybe so. All of those who have been invited certainly must feel as if they’ve made it. You could see it in their faces.