Dreams are scary. Without question. Having hopes and dreams when you aren’t sure just how long you’re going to be kicking around is scary. I have been having borderline panic attacks planning two months out for a reading I’m participating in in New York City. It’s not that I’m scared of going to the city (much) or that I’m scared of meeting people I’ve never met before (much), but this is fulfilling a dream of mine that I’ve almost been afraid to say out loud for fear it would disappear.
As many of you know I’m also very reluctant to make commitments. I’m scared that if I do and I don’t make it to the commitment than I’ll let down those I care about and/or are depending on me. I’m always scared to plan more than a week out because any further than that and I might kill myself before whatever actually happens.
I know that’s rather blunt, but I’m kind of beyond pussyfooting around. My name is Kate, I’m an alcoholic, I suffer frequent suicidal ideations, and rather intense social anxiety. There are two things I can say about myself in the positive. I’m a damned good writer and, likely (so long as you don’t burn my ass), one of the best employees you’ll ever employ. Well. Three things. With the exception of the Accident I’m also a good driver, and a better one since the Accident.
These three positives don’t seem to be enough to combat my anxiety over planning things more than three days in advance. For the bulk of the past year I’ve been seeing a PsyD resident in a local hospital’s outpatient department. I have a rather good relationship with him so have been worried about the after since he’s destined to be a pediatric psychiatrist and, despite my sometimes lacking maturity level, there’s no way I can pass as a ped. I did approach my PCP about having him continue my med management, and I have explicit trust for my PCP, but what’s been most remarkable about all this has been that I’ve been planning for all this - NYC, the transfer of med management, applying for job advancements - and I’ve not been flipping my lid. Much. Yes, there’s been some stress, some freaking, but I’ve not been completely dissolving in light of these developments.
As of right now I’m taking a deep breath and not continuing to make choices that’ll hurt myself or others. Sort of like how in AA they say, “Think out the drink,” I - for the most part - think out the drink, the cut, the dose of medicine.
Today I’m alive .Today I’m sober. Today I’m employed. Today I have dreams.
I’m trying to content myself with these things.