When you posted that on Monday I was going to reply immediately to the effect of "Yeah, new week, gonna rock it!" Obviously neither the post nor the rocking has happened. Because I am completely incapable of getting my shit together. At least I'll pass one goal this round; I can't not pack my shit and get rid of it if I'm moving. (I guess I could just never donate the stuff, but it's already chilling in boxes and ready to do, so that's just silly.) warning! ranting ahead! TMI incoming: First thing I'm doing when I move and get health insurance there is seeing a gynecologist about birth control. I'm fucking done with this shit. I don't get the paralyzing cramps and really terrible shit some people get, but never in 15 years have I had a regular cycle. In the last 3 years that I've been tracking it with an app, I've ranged from 21 to 53 days, and never the same twice in a row. I basically PMS for two weeks and spend that whole time going "Jesus Christ please not while I'm out somewhere." (Who got blindsided and started bleeding at her prom? This girl!) The PMSing has been getting worse though, which is fun. And I'm realizing, going back through old threads, that it kicks in pretty much at the same points where I bail on my challenges because I deem them and myself hopeless. Huzzah. I'm currently a mess. There are 18 million things I need to do before school starts, but I'm frustrated as hell because I can't do any of them until I move, or at least have a DC address for some things. Car/renters/health insurance, applying for jobs before classes kick in, setting up a routine before I get overwhelmed and depression creeps in, etc. I'm frustrated that I'm not there already, I'm mad at myself for not having gotten a job or at least volunteered somewhere locally since I thought I'd be moving months ago, I'm getting increasingly pissed off at my family and living situation again because I know I have an out and because I really fucking hate they way they live and that I'm stuck in this environment. I saw a therapist for ~2 years thinking I had social anxiety, but only discovered 2 weeks ago while creeping on my file at my PCP's that I was actually diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder and she never told me/clarified. That's fun! (Idk if it's possible to have both or if I'm just anxiety and shy to a ridiculous fucking degree as well as socially incompetent. But that's probably a question for the therapist I will inevitably see once I'm settled in DC.) I forget where I was going with the above paragraph because I broke off to google whether I could have both or not, but then suddenly was hit with like, ridiculous clarity about why I'm such a fucking disaster of a human being sometimes. And now I'm mad that she never told me. Because it puts so many things in perspective knowing it was a general issue; I was trying to figure out why I was anxious about things in terms of the social dimension. Fuck. Dammit I'm so mad right now. Ugh. UGH. Why can't text convey emotions I really want to burn something down right now oh my god. So riding the anxiety train, I've basically convinced myself that I'm going to die. Since the night I went to the ER three weeks ago bc my foot was swollen and bruised for no reason, it really hasn't let up and also hurts intermittently. And now the bruising is spreading up the back of my leg and I swear the veins are more noticable than they used to be? So yeah, somehow death is imminent. I recognize that it's irrational and I'm not going to die, but I'm also really annoyed because I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with my damn foot. Going to the doctor tomorrow to hopefully get an answer because it's pissing me off. And because I'm going to DC on Sunday and would like to not fuck it up by walking on it too much or something. I'm supposed to be scoping out apartments while the roommate is at work and the friend I'm traveling with is doing training during the day. "Surprise, you sprained your ankle 3 weeks ago, here's some crutches!" would suck balls. But at the same time an answer would be great. Also not helpful right now? Reevaluating my sexuality. That's never stressful and anxiety-inducing. Right. So. If you've made it this far, congratulations. tl;dr my challenge is a disater and so am I. Whee.
