Susan, your pastor's advice seems sensible -- though scary to try to deepen acquaintances into friends. And -- it's AWESOME that you fought past your scaredness and called him.
Also, I think Plei's suggestion of talking to your NP again is a good one. I'm not a rush-to-medication person, but I know that when my life has been a shitstorm of stress, my doctor prescribed a very small amount of Ativan, for a very short length of time. And it really helped me to be able to dial down my stress response, which is, I think, a lot like yours -- I worry and fret and then I can't get out of my own head and so I'm stuck in my head with the worrying and fretting and it all escalates rapidly. The Ativan helped put a damper on the worrying and fretting in the first place, so it wasn't able to escalate.
(It certainly did NOT leave me complacent and unmotivated; it actually helped me to get stuff done, because I wasn't freaking out at the stress surrounding what I needed to get done.)
I think it's worth thinking about.
I hope that works well for you, Susan; it sounds very sensible.
I did a preview picture of Emmett when I got his costume together.
So freakin' cute!!!
Susan, it sounds like your pastor is giving good advice. And, he's there for you to call on, it's part of his job. You shouldn't feel bad for doing it.
Emmett looked so awesome!
That is SPECTACULAR.
He looked even better last night because we got the wig tugged down a little better to cover his hair. Several folks said he had the best costume all night, though I think they were really won over by his commitment to character (he didn't talk the whole time he was trick or treating, only whistled, mimed and honked his horn). He was able to get his whistle to sound like the cadence of "Thank you."
Most people knew who he was, but one of the funniest exchanges went like this.
Emmett walks up stairs to somebody's house for candy.
Candygiver: "Who are you? A hobo?"
Emmett:
[shakes head emphatically "No" - whistles and mimes playing the Harp]
Emmett's Mom: "He's one of the Marx Brothers."
Candygiver: "Oh, I Know! You're Purple Marx!"
12 y.o. Black Kid standing behind Emmett:
[shaking his head in disgust]
"Man, he's Harpo Marx."
Emmett:
[whistles, touches his nose and points at kid behind him. Honks horn.]
"Oh, I Know! You're Purple Marx!"
Man, he's not a Teletubby.
Emmett: [whistles, touches his nose and points at kid behind him. Honks horn.]
That is *beautiful.*
I hope you find some peace and calm in your break, Susan.
You're very welcome back here when you're ready.
Any old fancy place you like at the Ferry Building.
Oh man. Good stuff.
Hec, I can't express how much the offer means. I feel like a dork saying thanks, but not right now. BUT once things lighten up a touch, I'll be over there. My office is not far from BART, so it would be an easy jump across the bay.
My best Halloween moment last night came when I was having an interior monologue about "Where has the magic gone?"
Right then a deer came up the street. I shone my flashlight, and my son said "MOM! Haven't you ever heard of a DEER IN THE HEADLIGHTS?". So I turned it off. The deer went clickety-click up the hill, passed us, and went on about its deerly business.
That'll do.
