Last we spoke, I was having some angst over hormonal birth control. I'm happy to report that the mood swings and bitchiness got much better as the month went on, but the anxiety did not. And most recently I had breakdown one day after work over my forgetfulness/penchant for not paying attention. This prompted me to make an appointment with my doctor to talk about why the eff I walk into the bedroom with water glasses when the water cooler is in Rad Boyfriend's office FIVE TIMES PER DAY. (Also why I leave the oven on, the garage door open, why I ask the same question 3 times, and why I continue to mess shit up at work.)
I had my doctor's appointment this morning. I explained my WTF-behavior and my doctor listened patiently. I told him that my said WTF-behavior has gotten to a point where it's affecting my everyday life and that it's time something be done about it. He asked me some questions and we chatted about what might be going on. We both agreed that these were more attention-related than forgetfulness-related, and he thus signed me up to speak to a psychiatrist to be tested for ADD.
AWESOME. I might have adult Attention Deficit Disorder. I'll let you know how that turns out.
But in the meantime, I done got myself a prescription for Ativan. Because the constant anxiety over effing up at work is starting to take its toll. I find myself checking and rechecking documents, second-guessing my work, asking my boss the same question three times to make sure I've covered everything. And it's starting to make me look incompetent. (Not that I think I am at all competent to run a law office, but I was faking it pretty well there for a while!)
So now I have some anti-anxiety meds that are to be taken strictly AS NEEDED! Both my doc and the pharmacist couldn't stress this enough. Those words, along with "habit-forming" and "pill-reliant" were thrown around several times this morning. I am to take them only when I feel very, extremely, super anxious. Umm... have you met me? I'm pretty much a walking ball of anxiety.
But alas. I must heed my doctor's advice. I know he's right, and I'm sure the pharmacist has seen her share of Ativan-poppers hounding her staff for refills that don't exist. I do not want to become one of those people. And so I've promised myself to only take them when I'm so stressed out that I can't think straight. Or when I fly. Because, really, why suffer in an economy class middle seat from California to New Jersey when you could drift off peacefully into a dream where your seat is in First Class and the flight attendants are all Alexander Skarsgard.....
Ahem. Pardon my digression. Stay tuned for the next Medication Update....