Ok, here goes

If I’m being forced to endure Friends before Desperate Housewives starts, I’ll indulge in some LJ-shaped therapy.

I’ve alluded a couple of times to having a bit of a problem. I did type a nice big explanation, in reply to a question from , but something fucked up and I lost the text. Still, after the last couple of days, I definitely need both to admit it and to do something about it.

Yesterday, as I posted, I failed miserably to get to the office. Public transport conspired to make me really nervous and I panicked my way home, after giving up the commute at Victoria. Today, there was no real reason for my nervousness, but I was really edgey at Mile End and took the Central line (as the sloth of the District line makes me edgey at the best of times), despite Stephen being there (chatting with him wasn’t really helping distract me enough). Made it through the change at Holborn. As far as the gents at Pic Circus.

So I really, definitely need to sort this out. For ten years or so, I’ve been burying my head in the sand, but that can’t continue — especially if I wanna keep my job.

I suffer from Irritable Bowel Syndrome and I suffer from panic attacks. They feed into each other like some satanic feedback loop. I’ve adapted my lifestyle to handle most of this. I never eat immediately before going out, because I know I’ll feel nauseous for an hour straight after eating. I avoid spicy food, because it makes my stomach worse. I don’t go to unfamiliar or distant places, because they make me nervous. All of these things mean that traveling would be near impossible, as I just sit there worrying about what’d happen if I need the loo whilst I’m traveling.

Scott was always (and still is) an infuriating combination of supportive and suggestive. Suggestions on how I ought change the status quo are infuriating because they feel like I’m being hassled. He and RobG are both being really helpful at the moment. Work are being quite understanding thusfar, but I’m really worried what might happen if things don’t change soon; DisBen ain’t a lot of money.

It’s really difficult to describe how I feel or what I’m thinking at the time. Aside from feeling pathetic and ashamed when I realise I can’t do something or go somewhere as a result, it’s difficult to remember — memory never has been a strong point of mine. Most of what I’m thinking is trying to persuade myself that it’ll be ok; that I can manage to get to the office (or wherever) without it being a problem. I can last just those four more stops. It’ll be ok by the time I want to go home. Breathe deeply. Read the book.

Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. If I’m just that extra bit stomachey or nervous, it just ain’t gonna happen. This morning, I woke up feeling a little sick, but better than I have done in a while. I showered and had to go to the loo a few too many times before leaving, which made me a little late. I just about held it together as far as Mile End, then it was on and off all the way.

I just don’t know what to do. Chatting with Scott on MSN at the moment is helping; helps that I can rant about stuff that I can’t really discuss in public, too.

But it all just seems like one, big, inpenetrable, complicated …thing that I’ve no idea how to tackle. People keep saying things like “take it one step at a time”, but I don’t feel like I have the energy and I don’t know what the steps are. I guess this is what a breakdown feels like.

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