“Don't tell your problems to people: eighty percent don't care; and the other twenty percent are glad you have them” - Lou Holtz

I've gotta get me some kind of medical help, as soon as the holidays are out of the anyway (no way my GP will see someone on Christmas Eve about anxiety).
I'm feeling so anxious today that it's interfering with everything, literally everything, I do, say or think. It's consuming me.
I'm back at work in the morning though, and that's usually distracting from my stir craziness.
I'm making light of it, but I feel absolutely terrible, I can't relax or rest at all.

I'll let you know what transpires...


ps The Christmas night out was a bust, a half empty venue, all the atmosphere of the moon, plus I'd forgotten to bring any money! There was no wine (as promised) with the food, which itself was smothered in gravy (which I hate). Plus my anxiety meant I couldn't relax and just chill out. Only 10 of 30 employees on my ward attended. The overall impression was a dull wedding reception. At least I lasted until 10.30 this year. There was a permeating drizzle on the way home, so I was of course, drenched by the time I arrived at my front door. I sat soberly in front of the computer for an hour, then went to bed, trying to avoid the creaking and dripping, by employing my newly purchased ear-buds. It goes without saying that I had troubled dreams, but reportage of dreams is in the top 3 of things other people don't want to read, and I don't want to push this so called blog any further up that illustrious list.

pps Billie stayed last night, for our traditional Christmas movie viewing. We couldn't agree what to watch, I've a big collection, but she is scared of "Gremlins" has never fancied "It's A Wonderful Life", doesn't consider "Die Hard" a real Christmas movie, and has seen "Elf"  (my top choice) too many times to countenance it again. 
I tried to download a compromise in "The Santa Clause" but my internet connection was down, which I felt rather guilty about. We ended up chatting and eating our pizza, then she watched "Match of the day" (an absolute must for her) and went to bed. A normal night for other families, I suppose. 
We get on really well considering how little we see of each other, and she is beautiful, clever and opinionated. 
I hope she learns from my mistakes and make a success of her life. I know that she can if she applies herself, but I worry that she'll develop her fathers top skills of self pity, apathy, and bad decision making. Somehow though, deep down, I think she'll do just fine.
In my current mental state my only guaranteed source of mental comfort is dwelling on how well she turned out as a person, and how happy she seems. 
Of course she is stubborn, self centred, selfish and materialistic, but I believe that by law , a teenager has to be all those and more...

Billie slept in my room as she is not too fond of her "bedroom". Consequently I slept in my armchair, with a blanket over me. It was a very strange night indeed. I only half slept, I think, and the night felt more like a delirious night shift (with strange dreams) than any form of relaxation. 

If I were someone other than me reading this, I'd be thinking "what a crackpot". But I simply don't have the skills to adequately describe how I feel. My GP was supposed to arrange counselling for me two and a half years ago, but I suspect that appointment will not be arriving now. If I had some kind of network of friends, that would probably help me deal with everyday concerns and woes, and a (self perceived) crisis like this would never arrive. 
But I'm terrible at making friends, and I imagine worse at keeping them. I'm not just difficult to know,  I'm just not worth the effort.

Blimey this ps went on a bit didn't it?

That's the signpost up ahead... from yakkowarner on 8tracks Radio.