I'll be 30 in 4 months. I moved out 6 years ago; went no contact 3 years ago; and still can't get used to this whole agency thing.
It's been a week since my approved FMLA was up, a few days before Short-term dissability ran out. Because the stress of trying to get back on track planning a wedding 3 months out with the thought of going back to a job, that has clearly added to my ptsd, which i thought was fucking under control, while never knowing what will trigger a vertigo migraine, because if i get a call in the middle i can't fucking articulate words, and don't get me started on the fact that every part of my body hurts constantly; i probably won't be able to fit into my dress. Thanks to apparently magical asian genes I don't stink wven though I haven't showered because I would have to put down my fucking phone. Which i can't because i have to look around at the mess the apartment is because I can't fucking deal with dishes (trigger: used to have to do them 3 timea a day, got pneumonia from being yelled out for not doing them while i was fucking sick, seen my glasses knocked off my face fly over them.) Not to mention there is no place to be alone except the fucking bathroom, so i'm probably prolapsed because even when im not dealing with ibs ill just spend a fucking hour in here. Sidetracked. Again.
My fucking drs. Never sent the paperwork to extend the leave, or called me back. Didn't even send the bloodwork to aetna. Texted my sup a shortened less sidetracked version and said i think i need to quit for my health. Which is shorthand for, I barely have the sanity to write a coherent text for fucks sake please tell me how to quit in the least confrontational way possible because every time my phone rings I stare at it like it's a T-Rex.
And she texted back that yes aetna told her they closed the claim, i should probably talk to the (in office) nurse.
I can barely text.
Cannot fucking make a corporate call.
Can't even get in the car except to go to (fiance's) grandparents.
And even then i lay down to feel as small as possible as i pass by work as if someone's going to stick their head through the window like the fucking kool aid man and tell me if i feel good enough to listen to the radio i feel good enough to go to work.
Can't even go near the window, for fear that i'll half to talk to another human.
But yeah, walking into work to talk to the nurse who will only give me a brochure for the shitty assistance line and only has advil and ice packs, sounds swell.
I had severe phone anxiety before i started the job, but god damn it. They gave me a script for the few outbound calls i had to make.
If only i had one for every call i had to make id be better.
The next day i got another text that OAR called her and needed me to call them. Had to google the abbrieve. I dont need the office of accessibility relations. I need the office of let me quit and someone else pick up my stuff for me because id like to hide in the farthest corner in the back of the room, preferably on the other side of the bed which was always my safe spot except my bed is in the corner because this apartment is so fucking tiny and i need my bed wall space.
Except i havent responded or called or texted back because im just so tired. And i just want it do be done with so im not feeling guilty and beating myself up for relaxing..
I have like 12 hard cover books in that office.
All my favorite books.
The clearing out my desk because im quitting because im not even human right now is so torrentially embarrassing for me that i cant even breathe.
Also i just watched bridget jones for the first time, and there were so many moments I was like...
HOW ARE YOU ABLE TO GO BACK IN FRONT OF PEOPLE AFTER THAT?!
HOW ARE YOU NOT IMAGINING A BUS RUNNING OVER YOU TO END THE EMBARASSMENT.
Oh god the firepole bit like.
. Can you ghost a job.
Am i doing that now?
I'm tired, finally. Its 4 am. I need to take my 6 pills because my ribs randomly hurt.




















