I took Ativan, and now I'm just sleepy and convinced I destroy things, but also that I can't handle everything breaking. I know that a laptop (even one I earn my livelihood with) and a TV are just things, and they mean nothing compared to the bigger stuff I was so worried about earlier this year, with Tim's heath. And we can replace a TV and laptop. But I just can't take thing after thing after thing breaking or otherwise being horrible news.
Every day, all day, I worry about Tim. His lungs may be fine, but I worry about his RA, and if the Humira will ever work, and whether he'll stop having so much pain. I worry about him so much. I worry every day about the pets, because they're both old and I'll be surprised, honestly, if either one of them makes it to 2017. And it's going to gut me. Every day I worry about my job, that I'm not good enough, that they don't want me any more, and I have to say, I am in NO SHAPE to have a 9-5 job in an office with other people where I have to wear clothes that button and talk to people. Working from home is conducive to having a total mental collapse. Can I tell you the truth? I can't actually believe I work every day. Like, get work done. But I do. I need to not lose this job. I worry about SO MUCH every day, and I am just waiting for the next bad thing to happen.
And I don't know how to stop feeling this way. Because the bad things just keep happening. And I can't imagine ever feeling any differently than this. I know I used to, but I can't imagine it changing from what it is right now. Ever.