Well, I actually managed to call in sick today. I have this problem when I get the flu. I think, am I making it up? Am I bringing it on to myself? Am I really sick enough to stay home? But the upset stomach gave a convincing enough argument, and I called in sick. My boss was nice about it, too. I lslept all morning, into the early afternoon. Now I'm at that stage when I'm exhausted, but I want to stay awake long enough to sleep at night. I'm hungry, but still a little sick, (but hunger can make me feel sick, too), so I'm trying to figure out what to eat so that it is enough and not too much... tomorrow, I really need to work, because they will be short on people. I actually think I am doing better and will be able to work tomorrow, but for now, I'm in that in between state. So if my writing makes no sense, I will blame it on that.
I left my home to get internet because today, my classes start, and I think you are supposed to check in the first day. You might have the first week, but I didn't want to take any chances.
Most classes have you introduce yourself in a discussion comment. I've had more interesting comments, before (maybe), writing about why I want to get my bachelor's degree in communication disorders. But today, the why isn't really on the top of my brain. This is just something I'm going to do. I work, I take part time classes. That's my life. Unless I want to let you in on the secret of my mental illness and how I spend a large fraction of my life working to preserve the health I have gained. This work is often "play," intentional recreation and relaxation and things I enjoy. Today and last night, that meant watching a movie. Sometimes it means playing computer games. Sometimes it means doing exposures and/or washing my dishes. Basically, most of my life (if not all of it) now ties into my quest for mental health. Work, continuing education, chores, life. All part of living, of intentionally living, which, somehow, seems the opposite of depression and wanting to die. My life response to wanting to die? Intentionally living. I'm lot's better now; I'm not hanging on by my fingertips. I've got my hands on the ledge, or maybe even my elbows and my waste. I'm not really in danger of falling right now. But are my feet planted firmly as well? Maybe not quite yet. I'm still climbing. Still intentionally living.
Which now includes the fall semester of classes. Yay. Now my stomach feels sick. Traitor!
Am I hungry, or sick, or both? Am I feeling sick because I'm anxious or depressed or plain have the flu? Questions, questions. But my brain is still a bit numb. Which is normal for when I am sick with a cold or flu. So maybe that's the answer. Anyway, much of the answers don't really matter. I'm going to take it easy tonight any way. And tomorrow? Hopefully I feel better.
When I was little, a family member (not a parent) often said to me when I was sick, "You're not really sick. You're just pretending." Or over-reacting. Or actually, I'm not quite sure what this person said I was, but this person said I wasn't as sick as I was acting. Though I'm not much for Freudian type psychology, I'm afraid that comment led to the habit of questioning myself whenever I feel sick. Am I really sick? But does it really matter? I probably can't know for sure this time, but I can suspect a certain answer. And I can try to care for myself with respect, including taking today off work. It's really okay, Abigail. It really is.