A Very Bad Day

Note: This entry provides details of my emotional state on July 15, 2008 and contains items that may trigger negative responses in some people. Please read with caution.

Ugh, today was the worst day yet. Every day that goes by things, get harder and worse than the day before. Whoever said, “time heals all wounds” was clueless.

Today I got up and went to see the Dalai Lama as planned and got to the 9:30am session. During the session, I started freaking out. I started crying. I felt like I needed just to run out of the place. It took everything that I had not to leave, the only reason I did not give in and leave was because of how much I respect him and his teachings. He is in my opinion the greatest and best living man, unlike so many other public figures, especially religious ones, he teaches only peace, compassion and responsibility, I have never heard him say anything mean or hateful about someone, even the Chinese government that represses and has illegally occupied Tibet for almost 60 years.

As much as I have looked forward to this trip, it has really sucked. I have not been able to focus or pay any real attention to his teachings because I all I could do was focus on the pain. This trip is a waste of over 1000$ and what may be a once in a lifetime chance at these teachings.

Back to today, as I said, I wanted to run and I was crying. Every little sound made me angry, the person behind me kept blowing their nose and another kept scratching his leg. Then he would scratch it for 5 minutes at a time I swear and loudly. God it annoyed me. I wanted to punch them both in the mouth, I was so angry.

I decided not to stay for the 2nd session and instead came back to room. On the way home, my panic attack hit full force. I just had to keep moving. It took all my self-control again not to start running people of the road and running red lights. Whenever I was stopped, all I could think was “I have to keep moving, I got to go, I got to go, I got to get back to my room”. My heart was racing, I was having random chest pains, I was crying my eyes out and I could not get control of it.

Therefore, at the nameless one’s insistence, since she called me, I called my therapist and then my psychiatrist. My psychiatrist called in a script for Xanax for me, which I just picked up. He said take one as needed, but with as bad as I have been I took one right away since I am sure I would have had another one later tonight.

The only thing that has kept me sane at all, and prevented me from losing it all together was the hotel staff, well especially one person. Her name is Shannie; she has one of those caring natures, where she cares about her fellow human beings even if she does not know them. I go down to the front desk every evening to stand and talk to her for hours on end. She keeps me smiling and laughing while I am there, lets me talk to her about what is bothering me and upsetting me. She never even gave me a look of disinterest or irritation. She lets me ramble on and gets me talking about other things to take my mind off my troubles. If she had not been here, I do not know how I would have gotten through this week. She has been a Godsend for sure. I can never thank her enough or repay her kindness. The best I could do was to get her a thank you card today for all the help she has given me, probably without even realizing how much it has meant to me.

 It probably sounds pathetic, but going to talk to her at the desk has been the high point of my days. It sucks being alone and having no friends to talk to, either on line or in r/t. I feel so isolated and unimportant.

Last night I accidentally knocked the hair dryer into the sink, looked at it, and thought how easy it would be to fill the sink turn the dryer on and shove my hands or face into it and be done with my pain and life. Obviously, I did not and I never seriously considered it.