Let's start off with the fact that my doctor took me off one of my antidepressants and I'm going through serious withdrawals right now. I'm assuming that withdrawals vary with each medication, but with antidepressants, I get these weird "brain surges" that feel like electric jolts going on behind my eyes. Not that they're painful, just disorienting. They have an accompanying sound effect that rings in my ears too. Every time I shift my eyes I get a feeling like my brain was just shaken really hard and it takes me a second to right myself. This adds a little extra kick to looking in my rear-view mirror while changing lanes on the freeway. Yee haw!
Then there are the emotions that rise to the surface of my skin and seep out through my mouth and tear ducts. It's not that I can't control myself, I just can't control the involuntary actions such as the process of osmosis caused by the buildup of emotions. I actually started sobbing last night while watching Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room. Not that it wasn't depressing, believe me. I just don't usually weep at movies like that.
Side note: I know better than to expect sympathy in my household of men. Selective hearing, eye rolling, and looks of sheer terror: yes. Sympathy and understanding: no. I think we've all quietly come to the consensus that I am currently acting like a crack addict with a monumental case of PMS, which means that interacting with me is far outside their realm of capabilities. In extreme cases such as these I don't force the issue with them; I simply rely on ice cream as my reliable safety net.
This is a pretty good visual representation of my current state of mind.
[Would ice cream have helped poor Linda Blair?] (source)
[Would ice cream have helped poor Linda Blair?] (source)
So.
Jumping out of bed at the usual 3:30 AM bell was all that more fun this morning. Coupled with the fact that I was running late and therefore dealing with heavier traffic (don't forget the lane-change excitement either!), let's just say that I arrived at work with a less-than-stellar attitude.
I went into an empty cube that houses a computer with a program I've been using for creating some computerized versions of lessons, and prepared to finish a particularly difficult project left over from last week. I navigated to where I had saved all my work and found no. trace. of. anything. Blank. The computer refused to acknowledge that I had ever existed. Taking this as a personal affront, the computer's cold shoulder put me over the edge and I started crying.
It wasn't even 6:00 AM yet.
I've cried at work before. When I was in college I worked at Nordstrom in the summers when they had their annual sale. The anniversary sale is one of the most hectic events I've ever participated in, and the salespeople and customers move throughout the store with the same rabid intensity. Never having been particularly competitive, I was completely out of my element, and, lacking any real survival skills, I simply did the only thing I knew how to do: open my emergency valve and turn into a blubbery mess.
However.
I'd like to think that I've matured a bit since then, but apparently those strides were taken only in my head. I mean, I do manage to keep it together most days, but my emotions still get the best of me. I guess it's good that I know I don't do well under pressure, so that I don't try and do something crazy like become a fire fighter or air-traffic controller. Or go into PR of any kind. It's good for others to know, too. Just in case I somehow land in your foxhole should Armageddon take place during our lifetime, it's probably best if you just throw me out as a part of a diversion tactic. It's okay. I'll admit it. The fittest I ain't.
I would like to be able to survive future Mondays, though. Is there any tactical training for that?
Hope y'all have had a better start at it.
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