there is a name for it, you know

i’ve been a roaring ball of emotions for the last few days. especially today, as evidenced by my earlier post. i’ve been vacillating. i think it all came to a head earlier today when my hubby bubby came home to find me balled into a corner of the shower. sobbing.

i’d been on the verge all day. afraid to think what i was thinking. i got in to the shower, and just started bawling. i couldn’t stop. i was trying to wash my hair, and it hurt so badly. and it made me think of why it hurt so badly. and i couldn’t stop crying. i’d lather up, and have to stop for a few minutes. at one point i just sunk into the floor of the shower. that’s where i was when hubby bubby got home from work. must’ve scared the hell out of him. he wanted to know what was so horrible that i was in this uncontrollable state. “i don’t want to go back to work,” i choked out. his response: “then don’t.” do i have the best hubby bubby beshert, or what?

so i got out of the shower and got dressed. he talked. he made sense. i was still a blubbering mess. he said that it’s not worth it to feel this way. no amount of money is worth my safety. or my head. and we’d find a way to get by financially. and our families wouldn’t let us starve. or become homeless. he said something that he’s never said before, which was later echoed by my parents: “i never wanted for you to take this job. not after what i knew it entailed.” but he is never one to tell me not to do something. he’s been scared for me. for two freaking years he’s been scared for me and the phone calls that came. I'm sorry honey, i didn’t mean to scare you.

we had already been talking about me quitting. hell, i’ve been interviewing for other jobs. but i expected to go back to work for a couple weeks, then put in my proper two weeks notice, etc. the problem is, every time i think about going back to work, i freak out. which lead me to be the roaring ball of emotions.

so i called my parents and asked if we could come over. i didn’t explain why, which made them both very nervous. and i could’ve talked with them about this over the phone, but i felt like they needed to see the emotion. so we went over there immediately. and i told them that i had to quit my job, and that i was scared, and couldn’t get past it. my mother, the social worker, had the audacity to say to me, the social worker, “there is a name for what you’re going through, you know. ptsd.” uh, yeah, duh. thank you. and i realized, with brilliant clarity, that i really don’t have it all together in that department, and my blase act was to mask the ptsd i was experiencing. again, duh.

but my parents were cooler about it than i thought they’d be. they told me how scared they were for me, and that they hadn’t wanted for me to take this job to begin with either. and they said that they would help us financially if we needed it.

that’s my biggest problem with this, the financial aspect. I'm so scared to put us in this financial position. i mean, we’ve got savings, and we’re doing pretty well. but that’s on two incomes. and before we pay our enormous taxes that we are sure to have this year since we sold our rental property last year, all capital gains. uhg. so I'm afraid to syphon money out of the savings to pay current bills. luckily i won’t have to worry about that for a few weeks. i paid all our bills last night. so our mortgage is current until next month, my car’s not due until the end of the month. cable, gas and electric are paid. and we’re not going to starve. still scary.

so I'm to call my supervisor in the morning and ask to see her during the day, either before or after my doctor’s appointment. I'm sure that my resignation is to be expected. but that doesn’t make it any easier. obviously not, given that it’s now after 1a, and I'm in my office typing instead of in bed. so now i need to do what i’ve been telling other people to do...

breathe. just breathe