Well anyway I lay down and my brain went haywire. I was thinking about how poorly Tank seems to be doing lately. It's almost like every day he's limping more, he's been falling down a lot, he groans when he has to stand up, that kind of thing.
Then the thought passed through my mind "How will we know when it's time to put him down?"
And I guess my brain is wired a little strangely around death since my brother passed away, because the thought of making that decision instantly had me sobbing. And then I had a REALLY bad panic attack, the kind where you're hyperventilating and can't stop, you're clutching your pillow and you can feel your pupils dilating and you feel the worst terror. I texted Ryan from the bedroom to bring me my bag and I took an ativan, and it still took me a good 30 minutes to slow down again. We talked it out, the whole thing about Tank being a different dog now, but he's not giving up so neither are we.
I am so lucky Ryan is in my life. He handles these things with so much grace and never makes me feel weird about it. Even when I look like this and wiped snot on my sleeve. I mean, I could see if somebody didn't understand the weirdness of it all, this would be the dumbest thing ever. You're crying this much because your dog is limping? Jesus christ girl get it together.
Anyway that was the final straw for me. A lot of bad things have been happening. A LOT of anxiety, enough to mess me up at work and cause late night freakouts. So yesterday morning Ryan drove me out to my doctor's office.
I have a friend who knows a lot about this kind of thing, and she texted me through the wait in the lobby. Because a guy was trying to make small talk about the fucking weather to everybody and I couldn't handle it and guess what, that plus the pressure of having to say things to a doctor and that dumb thing where I feel like nobody is going to believe me and I'll have to convince them it's true... caused another panic attack to rise up. I tweeted about it and she came to my rescue.
We texted until my doctor literally came into the examination room. Thanks, Sarah.
Anyway I told him about all my dark thoughts, I told him about the panic and the way I get grey vision and a rapid heart rate if something minor happens at work and all the things. Everything. And he was 100% on my side from the beginning. He changed my medication to something with more anxiety help in it, he gave me more ativan, and his advice was to make sure I take care of myself (sleeping eating, resting, exercising, etc) and not rely on anybody else to make me happy, only I can make me happy.
It was a really nice little pep talk he gave me, and he really knew how to make me feel not crazy. It was good.
After that I came home and was a grey zombie. I lay on the couch staring at nothing until I decided to have a nap that ended up lasting 4 hours.
Ryan came in the bedroom and said he was taking me out for dinner.
The crazy guy had called into a radio station contest and won us a REALLY fancy free dinner, just the two of us. The kids had movie passes and so we dropped them off with a couple friends and went out on a date. It was amazing. It was so out of the norm for us, like fancy champagne and candlelight and a view of the city over the water and probably the most delicious food EVER ON THE PLANET. It shook off the rest of the weird and was absolutely romantic and wonderful.
I even wore the dress that I wasn't allowed to wear at a wedding, and makeup and did my hair and all of it.
Today is Saturday now and I'm ready to start my new medication and try again.
Hit the refresh button.
The doctor told me if he were an airplane pilot he'd tell me to fasten my seatbelt because it could be a bumpy ride, so wish me luck. lol I hope it's smooth sailing.