worst nightmare came true

I went to my father’s appointment and was doing fine until the last leg home. The bastard wanted to be wheeled in a wheelchair so that added stress to my ankle. So by the time I was on my way home, my ankle was flaring. I am glad tomorrow I can rest. I am going to need it.

Other than the doctor’s appointment, I didn’t do anything else today. I woke up early and then fell back to sleep and woke up later than I wanted to. I made breakfast but didn’t finish it all. I made coffee and it was really good. I got to remember not to have a rounded scoop for the Pike and it comes out perfect.

I am feeling really tired. On the bus home, my worst nightmare came true: the front entrance was blocked with people and carriages. A lady came on with a huge stroller thing that should be classified as something other than a damn stroller and that was it. My anxiety went through the roof but I wasn’t at my stop yet. I ended up moving to the back of the bus. It was still crowded but less so. My chest hurt so much I was panicking so bad. I got off on the stop before mine and just walked the way home even though it was a bit longer. I had to get off the bus. There should be a limit as to how many strollers should be on the bus. A lady was already on board with a regular sized stroller and then the big one just clogged the bus. It’s not worth me having anxiety on my only means of transportation home and to go places. I would lodge a complaint but I know they will say they can’t do anything about it. But it should be up to the driver’s discretion who he/she lets on the bus for the safety of the other passengers. What if I wheelchaired person need to use the bus? They wouldn’t get on and it wasn’t right that two people with canes (myself and another person) had to move from our seats at the front of the bus because of this damn stroller and the other one.

I hate having to take an Ativan in the afternoon but I had no choice. My palpitations are still through the roof though it’s been at least fifteen minutes since I have been home. My mother is making dinner. I didn’t have lunch so that just makes the anxiety worse. I just wasn’t hungry to make lunch.

About G. Collerone

suicide attempt survivor writing about the hopelessness that accompanies depression that no one likes to talk about
This entry was posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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