Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Duty

Time seems to go in slow motion when anxiety has me in its grip.  I hate the way it makes me feel light headed and a little dizzy too.  The acid rises up in my throat, burning.  And the constant swallowing because my mouth is salivating because it feels like I’ve been punched in the stomach. 

I bring that up because now the next higher up has concurred with my immediate supervisor and their supervisor that my restricted duty status not be extended any further than it has already gone.  My stomach feels like it’s been used as a punching bag right now.  She was the one that went to bat for me last time and now she’s not batting for me anymore. 

It feels hopeless now.  I knew it was going to pan out this way.  I just knew that things had been going to well for me that something bad had to happen to me to burst my bubble.

I hate feeling pessimistic.  Especially when I can’t remedy it by having a thought marathon to work out the problem like in this situation.  I don’t like not being able to do anything about something.  I don’t like feeling helpless and out of control.  I don’t like the complete uncertainty of it all.

I work in a jail and our rank structure is paramilitary.  For instance, my immediate supervisors are called sergeants.  The sergeants’ supervisors are called lieutenants.  Above the lieutenants are captains.  The captains answer to the major and the major goes to the chief deputy.  Above everyone is the sheriff himself. 

Right now, my request has gone through the sergeants, lieutenants and the captain.  The next person to review it will be the major.  Apparently, he will request to meet with me in regards to this matter, but I don’t know when that is supposed to happen because after tomorrow, I’m out from work for at least 2 weeks.

My life seems to hang precariously in the balance right now and it’s swaying back and forth with the uncertainty of everything.  There’s no telling on what side it will stop or if it will just fall to the ground below.

It’s times like this that I wish I had a more active social life, so that I could distract myself with my friends.  I don’t like obsessing over this.  It does me no good to continuously think about it.  But I just keep bringing it up, trying to solve it, trying to work through it and find a way to make it work.  I don’t like it.

My hands are tied in this.  I’m at the mercy of others that only look at the big picture.  They don’t see the little picture, the details.  They don’t see me, they only see numbers.  They only see that I have been on restricted duty for 6 months and that the shift is hurting for staff.  They don’t see that they could possibly be ruining my life.  They don’t see the mechanic bill and the payday loan I have to pay.  They don’t see me.

Yea, sure, if I get demoted, I’ll only lose 10% of my paycheck.  But I can’t afford even that.  That’s $4500 a year, gone.  That is essentially my entire move to Oregon fund right there.  That’s $375 a month.  I wouldn’t be able to pay my bills, let alone save up enough money to do anything…meet Jessica in Vegas or move to Oregon toward the end of next year.  And that is just unacceptable to me.  I have to do whatever I can to make sure that doesn’t happen.

I wish I could stop thinking about it.  It’s consuming me from the inside out.  All I’m doing is sending out negative energy when I should be doing my best to send out positive energy.

I wish that my grandparents had put me on their church’s prayer list for my job worries and not for the surgery.  I know I could use the spiritual back up that would provide.  Just knowing that others were hoping that things turn out favorably for me would be enough for me to think more positively.  Sure, being on the list for the surgery seems like the appropriate thing to do and, don’t get me wrong, I really appreciate the thought behind it, I’d really much rather have consideration for my job and financial issues right now.  Those are what are really bothering me.  Those are what I really need as much strength as I can get in.

And obsessing over it all isn’t doing me any good.  All it will do is to cause my food to not settle and for me to have irritable bowel moments.  And that’s never any fun.

It makes it almost impossible to sleep.  I toss and turn, never getting comfortable.  My body temperature goes up and I start sweating under the covers.  I have a migraine from my blood pressure being high for so many hours in the day.  I turn on the a/c because the cold helps when I get migraines.  I have to take a sleeping pill if I hope to sleep at all.  And, sometimes, that doesn’t even work.  Sometimes, the anxiety is strong than the sleeping pills.

Things have not always gone well in my life, to say the least.  I have my share of problems and troubles.  Sometimes, I think I have more than my share.  But, as I’ve said before, “god” (or what/whoever is out there watching over us) would never give me more than I can handle, so I know from knowing that that I can do this, that I can solve this.

There are times when I just want to give up.  It’s times like this when I am thankful for the “happy pills” that my doctor prescribes me because, without them, it would seem immeasurably hopeless, more so than I would think I could handle or want to face.  I just want to curl up, sleep forever and never wake up again.  Thankfully, even without the pills, I don’t think I would ever be able to do that.  I love my life too much.  Yea, that sounds like a contradiction and, sometimes, it is, but it’s still the truth.  I do love my life.  I love living and having experiences, even if they’re bad ones.  I still learn something new about myself or the world around me and I love that.

One thing that I have planned to do that may make things a little easier on me.  Frankly, it’s the only solution I can come up with to even begin to attempt to fix the situation that I’m in right now with work.  My doctor has given me 2 weeks off from work to recover from surgery.  I cannot go back on restricted duty.  I just can’t.  Keeping my job as it is right now depends on that.  I will explain myself to my doctor and tell him I either need more time off from work or that he must release me to return to my regular job.


I stepped on the scale last night.  It registered another 3.2 pounds lost!  That’s a total of 8.4 pounds in a month.  Hooray for me!  I feel good.  I’m off my acid reflux pills and only have to eat 1 Tums every couple days.  I know that as I continue to lose weight, there will be a point where I don’t have any reflux problems at all.

I know that stress probably helped my weight loss along somewhat this week.  And I’m okay with that.  I still ate what I needed to eat each day to reach my points for that day.  I’m doing good.  In fact, I think, as of today, I’m going to add a second boiled egg to my afternoon snack.  More protein is good for me.  Besides, I almost always have a few points left over at the end of the day, so why not use that deficit to eat another egg.  1 just never seems like enough to me.

My daily points have gone from 35 to 34 and now to 33.  I’m proud of this.  It means I’m making progress.  I’m already going to have to buy smaller pants soon.  I’ll be a size 14 before I know it!

I’m almost back down to my pre-injury weight.  I’m excited about that.  That means that, as long as I continue to lose a little bit of weight each week while I’m off from work recovering from surgery, I will be able to fit into my uniform, even if just barely.  This is good news for me.  I was so worried that I wasn’t going to fit into my uniform shirts.

I am so happy that the weight loss seems to be going so well for me, especially when I thought I wouldn’t lose anything at all since I wasn’t able to exercise.  I know I keep coming back to that, but it really is something that caught me off guard.  I didn’t think I would actually lose anything.  I thought I would basically just maintain the weight I was at.  But, no, I’ve lost almost 9 pounds so far.

The only time I really feel hungry is between breakfast and my mid-morning snack of a can of tuna.  Once I eat that can of tuna, I’ve got protein in my system and then I’m good to go for the day.  Every time I eat after breakfast, I am having some amount of protein.  Protein is important to maintain that feeling of fullness, of satisfaction.

I know so much about nutrition from my attempts at bodybuilding and the times that I have done a suedo-vegetarian diet and regular diets too.  I know so much that, if it were allowable, I could probably test out and get my degree in nutrition without taking a single class.  Wouldn’t that be nice?

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