Stress

Someone posted to my blog that blogging is good for OCD. I think that may be true. I'm not sure why, but it seems logical that getting your thoughts down on "paper" or the computer equivalent might be a good way to purge fears and anxieties.

I hope so, because I have quite a few right now.

I signed up, foolishly, for a new natural gas delivery service that I was lead to believe (or was kidding myself) would lower my bills in the winter. Only after I signed up did I think I should call my current provider and ask them what they thought. It sounds as though I may have even higher bills with the new service, and I found that there were a lot of questions I should have asked but didn't. So I called back the new company, got an answering machine and left a message for the guy that sold me the service. I put a lock on my current account so no one could touch it; then I called back the next day the new service and left a recorded message for the salesman telling him I wanted to cancel and stay with the old provider (you have three days to cancel). I then called my state's commerce commission and they said that if the new service sent me the info anyway and tried to sign me up, to call them and they would take care of it. But with my OCD...I still wonder, what if they say they didn't get the message and try to charge me some exorbitant exit fee (as I hear they have done in the past) to get out? I feel so darned foolish; and I'm sick with worry. I feel dumb because I never do things like sign up for programs without getting information first, but I was tired and this sounded OK. At least I had the forethought to call my current provider afterwards (or it that afterthought?), but still...I feel dumb.

When I worry, my stomach gets all tight and painful. I know there's a lot of acid in there trying to eat me up. And I don't sleep well, my mood is bad; I just hate waiting to see how things turn out. I'm no good at dealing with stuff that involves waiting and I have a hard time knowing when and when not to push the panic button.

Work remains horrid. It is disorganized, poorly planned and terribly stressful. I can't think of a single person who isn't probably thinking during the day "how the hell can I get out of here?" The atmosphere is very tense and people talk to each other in a very disrespectful manner. It never was a great place to work, but it has become much worse over the years.

Tomorrow I am supposed to see a woman at a local community college about setting up a class schedule. I don't really think her idea is going to work because I have to work during the day and most of the classes are while I'm working. But we'll see; maybe I can take some night courses. I need to do something, get on some organized track rather than just drift as I have been. I have to follow up on some job possibilities too; but I am just so tired when I come home and have so much to do that I just never seem to do it. I need some days off. Yes, I just had some time off for Christmas but you can't ever get anything done at that time; you're busy getting ready for the holidays and most of the people you need to get in touch with are too. It's not a "get things done" time of the year.

So I sit here, sick and nervous and depressed and angry at myself. I see so many people that just seem to be so together and organized and fulfilled and I wonder what the difference between them and myself is. Genetic, environmental, a combination of the two? Who knows for sure? And I miss my mom so very, very much. I always have but it's particularly hard at times like these, when I need a shoulder to cry on and someone to use as a sounding board. She was always there for me, through all the craziness and dark times I've had; patient, loving, understanding and willing to listen. You can have friends, but you can't recreate that type of love. It's a once in a lifetime thing.

So, has this helped me? I don't know. I hope so. I'll be relieved once I know how this gas thing turns out. But after that, it will just be some other crisis I'm sure. I have to somehow learn to live with the unknown and not have it turn me inside out. It's at times like these that I realize how very, very alone I really am; again, it's not that I don't have people who care, but how many people do any of us really have that can be a source of "unconditional positive regard"? How many people do any of us have that will make us a priority and put aside their own needs in order to make us feel comfortable and safe? I would wager very few.

Well, this is a bit more personal that I tend to be, but at least it's a post.

Onward...