Makes my skin literally crawl thinking of ringing the doctors to be the 70th in the queue.
Because get this, I am unmedicated when I clearly need it! The thought of ringing is enough for me to bury my head in the sand and say “just change a bit of your lifestyle, oh you don’t feel you can, just wait til after morning and pour a drink then, that’s accessible”.
Not on work days I may add.
I have maybe lasted 40 minutes on hold, at a push. Without thinking psssh there’s no issue. You’re being dramatic. You wanna cry to a doctor that’s probably gonna whack you on some drugs that have already made you MASSIVELY suicidal before? You’re probably best to not make the call, to be honest. You’d probably die quicker. I mean it was 10 years ago the last time you tried medication but 100% you would still neck them all… And the rest.
Ridiculous.
So just pour another drink, it’s safer.
My fear is I’m so controlling of my panic attacks now at work that they end up lasting for hours. I am in a supervisor position and I can’t openly weep at work, so it gets all pent up. I end up slurring my words. I can’t form a sentence. I sound like an absolute dickhead when other staff talk to me, staff that I think are “dangerous”.
My normal talk is reserved for complaining customers that I absolutely talk to calmly, but the customers that ask where something is probably don’t appreciate sometimes I can’t physically speak and guide or point, because I’m reserving the last of my energy for “need to talk issues”. That’s not me it’s my anxiety.
Madness right? But it’s genuine. There’s some guys I know are ok to see me stressed, I know they won’t judge. Then there’s some guys when I’m stressed I feel they’ll take a victory and it’s when I’m around them I can’t. Get. A. Sentence. Together.
I had an emergency situation today, as normally happens for a store worker… Absolutely not.
Within 3 months of starting for this company (at my old place) my supervisor had a heart attack. On fucking site, never dealt with seeing that. Wtf was I meant to do with that? I didn’t really know her, not as well as the others did. She died before hospital and well I’ll always feel like it’s because I couldn’t close the store and because of customers barging in. Because it wasn’t an emergency til she was dead.
Couldn’t go on tills anymore coz it all blurred after a while. I couldn’t focus being trapped behind there. The fucking papers turning up and photographing the shop was horrible. I’d tried to be strong but hey, dealing with death is personal it’s not a huge story. I was so angry.
The feeling didn’t go away, I couldn’t stand and can’t stand more than an hour behind a till. I love it too, it’s such a shame.
Then court ey??? Just toss it up that we didn’t do enough.
You know CLASSIC STORE WORK.
So a few years pass, I moved to the busiest site in the north east. Up for the challenge, controlling my anxiety.
Absolutely fucking not. No one thinks of a store worker saving lives, I cannot fathom how many times ive dealt with real issues that would kill 20+ people if it escalated. And customers have treat me like I’m an issue. Honestly, I’m done.
I come home, regardless of how many nice customers, and don’t even put coke in my vodka. Coz I can’t fucking accept that someone sees a fire engine and thinks it’s acceptable to drive through bollards to get fuel. Literally drives over cones and complains the pumps aren’t on. Who are you? Who are these people?
Genuinely, feel like life is training me for this whole massive crisis thats coming. Coz I’m dealing with so many crisises that I’m just collecting them. Badges and that, proper good girl scout.
No the world isn’t ending.
Just me ending really.
Got it nailed, there enough 