Anxiously Waiting

Yesterday I went to go renew my son’s health insurance. I could have mailed in the renewal form, but I needed to include a copy of his birth certificate and a copy of his social security card. I did not want to take any chances of either of these getting into the wrong hands, so I went to their office. 

As soon as I walked in, I regretted my decision of going. The office was packed; almost every seat had a body, and there were screaming children every where. We took a number and then a seat and we waited. Tristan was very well behaved, playing with me and watching the other people, and for that, I was appreciative. 

However; the longer I sat, the more anxious I became. I was unable to get a corner seat, where I could safely have my back against the wall and have a view of the entire room. My seat was situated in the very center of the room, in the middle of everyone. I felt so exposed; I had people constantly walking around me, bumping my stroller, or being overly figity near me. 

I was so vulnerable. At one point, I thought a little boy was going to climb into my lap, and it even seemed like he was plotting on stealing my wallet from my diaper bag. He looked to be around the age of 9 or so, and kept getting closer to me and he was not hiding the fact that he was openly looking into my bag, at all. As soon as I zipped my bag closed, he moved away. 

Finally ! They called my number, “63”, and I jumped out of my chair. I had to finish filling out a form while at the counter, and I barely managed to do so, I was shaking so badly. The woman must have thought I was ignorant because she would tell me what to fill out and I would do it incorrectly. She spoke to me as if I were garbage, then I said, “I do not know how you ladies do this every day, I have PTSD, and my nerves are so shot I could vomit.” At that point she became friendly. I rushed to finish everything so I could leave and get back to my comfort zone. 

I was nearly ran off the road on the way home, which did not help my anxiety, and by the time I arrived home I was exhausted. I had a headache hit me, which quickly turned to a migraine, I could barely function. I laid down for a nap, at the direction of my husband, around 8:30. I woke up around 12:30 and was having a panic attack and then had trouble falling asleep. Once I fell back to sleep, I struggled to stay calm and found myself constantly waking in a state of panic. The smallest occurrences can set off my panic, it is like a ticking bomb. I kept waking, feeling like my chest was caving in, unable to catch my breath. 

I suffer every day. I wish I could say this happens once in a while, but I am not that lucky. I go through this many times a week. I cannot control it, it controls me. My disease tells me what to do and how to live. Something that could be such a small trip to one person is like building up and accomplishing a marathon for me, and it is draining. 

It took nearly a month for me to build the courage to go to that office and turn in the information for my son to keep his insurance. Then, it cost me the rest of the day and night to recover from the trip. At least my husband knows how hard it is for me and helps me when I need him. 

It was brutal. Maybe, one day, I will find a trip away from home to be easy. Maybe. 

❤ LAFMommy

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12 thoughts on “Anxiously Waiting

  1. I am dreading the very same, and keep putting it off. I am at a point with my PTSD that I think I may need to be admitted into a program. I’m just terrified. Your post made me cry. I know what it feels like to be completely out of control, driven by my anxiety and paranoia. Haven’t been functioning well for a while. I just can’t seem to dig myself out this time. I just don’t care, but I do care, rather I just can’t do it alone. I don’t have family here, they’re all 1700 miles away. My husband doesn’t seem to notice the lack of work I do, or the sadness I exhibit, the fear of simply driving to order food at a window. I’m so burnt out. Fighting to maintain a sense of normalcy I no longer feel is exhausting. I’m proud of you for going out, and sad that you are now in the pit of this awful thing PTSD.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh, I know how you feel. Talk to your husband, will he listen ? I considered being admitted prior to my pregnancy, and recently was told by my therapist that he was thinking of recommending me for a 6 week in patient program. I could not do it though. I can’t leave my son, especially when he breast feeds. He keeps me going. When I try to get better and go out, it seems like I only get worse because something happens to trigger me. I’ve attempted to get a service/therapy dog so I can have something to help me, but since my therapists have been through the VA, they don’t recommend one for me. Sometimes I can’t tell that I’m getting overly anxious because I’m being so hyper aware and a service dog would help me so much. I just don’t have the money to pay for one at the moment. I have considered going to an outside therapist to see if I can get a recommendation. It’s very hard. If you’re ever overcome with anxiety, talk to me. I will be here.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Speaking of VA…my hubs has severe PTSD, service connected. Served in Somalia. We adopted a dog, ruby of the litter and moseyed on over at 12 weeks. He’s not certified but makes me sit out of nowhere to pet him if I start hyper ventilating. He’s a lab mix. The VA won’t even pay for my husbands friend who was paralyzed in Somalia to have a dog. He’s paying out of pocket with what he saved for 20 years from disability checks from the VA. Anyways…more on that later.
        I nurse our baby too so I feel yuh. My husband has issues connecting the dots, and it comes of as emotional abandonment. It’s not his fault, he just can’t handle it. Or me. He is a good guy that’s changed so much really, but he is my trigger, and doesn’t trust a the repost to get us through it, so it’s been a long hard road to normal I guess you could say. There a lot more to the story, but I just can’t you know? Thanks for reaching out, and same goes for you! 💜

        Liked by 1 person

      2. You cry in the closet too? It’s not funny, but lol. Nice to know I’m not alone. I’m so sad about it too…it’s not a walk in, so I just kind of lean into my sweaters and howl, then wipe my fm face with their sleeves.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. We used to have a deep walk in and I would go into the back and hide under the clothes, in a ball, and sob. Now, our closet is a step in and I can stand in there and cry. I’m almost too lazy for that now and have so many breakdowns that I just sit where I am and cry. Standing in the dining room ? It’s okay, I’ll sit on the floor and cry. Cooking dinner ? I’ll sit down against the oven and cry.

        Liked by 1 person

      4. Thanks for reaching out. I really needed to know I am not doing this alone. As heart breaking as all this is, for both of us, it’s great knowing these things aren’t crazy, just how it is at times.

        Liked by 1 person

      5. I agree. Although I can’t blog much, it does help when I can. I needed an outlet and I have found one. It doesn’t make any of this go away, but it helps me to find some comfort.

        Liked by 1 person

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