I took a sick day today, both to cope with my growing physical illness and with my mounting anxiety problems. In a rather odd coincidence, today was also the day I was scheduled to see the woman from the board who helps when an employee needs to deal with stressful or traumatic situations. As it turns out, I'm really glad that I had a chance to see her in her office rather than in a Hogsboro coffee shop, for I began to bawl like a baby from the very first minute of conversation.

But of course, one of the things I need to remember now is that I can't be embarrassed about my emotions any more, because that just makes it worse. So. Onward.

She had a number of suggestions for me, most notably to see a doctor as soon as possible so that I could begin to receive medication to reduce the panic attacks. Unfortunately, even when I get the 'scrip, it'll take 4-6 weeks to start kicking in. In the meantime, the old standards of yoga, exercise, diet & time management appear to rule the day. And there's a month-long seminar in October that will help.

Overall it was a positive experience. I was kind of hoping for something more conclusive, like a pill that would immediately restore my brain chemistry or a voodoo dance that would remove my anxieties, or even a little note that excuses me from teaching the rest of the year. I suppose I still hold out hopes that the knight on the white charger will rescue me from my own complex sadness. I somewhat dislike the idea that only hard work and persistence will make any difference.

Still, it's a lot better than no hope. It's a lot better than quitting now. And it's a lot better than hurting myself to take myself out of the situation.

Last night I took advantage of my impending sick day and met Dirk & Tym for a late showing of "Fubar." I think I would've liked the movie better if I weren't teaching half a dozen of the main characters every day. The after-movie conversation, however, was excellent and soothing. I'd forgotten what it's like to sip a light drink and laugh with friends. Remembering was sheer joy.