I am so exhausted. Mentally and physically. It’s like the top layer of my skin has been scraped off leaving all my nerves exposed. All stimulus is pain – fire and lightening, everywhere. I’m dragging myself forward. Dragged myself to the interview. Thank goodness I moved it to the morning or I would have spent even longer in terror, every minute leading up to it was torture. It’s farther away than I’d like, 20 to 30 minutes. It’s much less than I’ve been paid, since college. But the interviewer would let me work part time. And I’d be working with a dear friend. High volume, but not “rocket science.” I definitely need something that doesn’t require my pre-depression brain skillset. Writing this down makes it seem like a good choice. So why do I still feel a wreck at just the idea. How can I possibly reintegrate with a workforce. I’m so completely exhausted. Every single thing I do takes monumental effort. Every tiny thing I do raises my anxiety level to block out anything around me in prickly, discordant static. I’m walking forward, sure, but the pilot light is out. Somehow I haven’t walked into a pole or a ditch yet. Just lucky I suppose. And I can keep the mask on for swallows of time here and there. Takes monumental effort, but it’s possible. Just look at my interview. But how can I do that for hours at a time in an office. How in the world. In order to keep my head during the long drive I kept saying a mantra I had heard before. I’m sure I was saying it wrong, but I had to keep repeating it anyway. Chanted it over and over the whole drive. Focus on the chant. Nothing but the chant. No words. No images. Just the chant. I made it there. I made it home. Actually I didn’t go home. I went to lunch with a friend from the group. Exposed in a restaurant. But so frazzled from the effort of the interview I couldn’t care. Then I went home. Then I went with my husband to the local amusement park. That was tough. I thought the exercise would do my anxiety good. It did. But crowds and small spaces (in lines) were a tidal wave. I made it. We went on lots of rides. And I actually had fun on one of them. But I felt like crap. I was a puddle of intestinal pulp. And even after going to bed early, I feel only minutely better today. I made it to group, I needed to for my sanity. But I’m going straight home and going back to sleep. My body and mind are demanding it. I am beyond overloaded. I have to find a way to recharge, even just a tiny bit. There has to be a way, I can’t continue like this. It’s not sustainable. I feel like as I’m dragging myself forward limbs are going to start falling off. Piece by piece I’m falling apart, leaving a trail of body parts behind me, till there is nothing left.