..I'm struggling a little bit at the moment.
About a week-and-a-half ago I had this realization that maybe all of the little personality traits I exhibit maybe aren't normal. Maybe not not just an asshole who hates everyone. Maybe everyone else isn't the problem and that it's me.
All I had to do was walk next door and ask my neighbour if she would feed my cat for the few days I was going to be away for work. Instead of doing this simple, seemingly normal task, I worked myself up over it so much that I had a panic attack. I just couldn't bring myself to leave the relative safety of my couch, in my house, and speak to this person who I saw almost daily. I'd even come up with a contingency plan of having a friend of mine go completely out of her way after driving an hour-and-a-half home from work every day to come and feed her because I could send this person a text message rather than have to speak to her face-to-face.
It made me start questioning a lot of things about myself and everything kind of started to make sense. It's funny because I had this opinion of myself during this whole time where I was living with someone who had some pretty severe anxiety and depression that, I was very laid back and took things as they came. I know that I'm logical and analytical and pragmatic and that I think about things practically. That the things that upset me weren't that big of a deal and that I shouldn't harp on about anything. Maybe it's because I wasn't ever seemingly allowed to feel this way because my issues were comparatively.. less bad. It was most certainly all about her and none about me.
So I kept on going. Brushed it off. Like I always do. Then came Thursday. I had been traveling for work and was on my way between Canberra and Sydney. The flight was supposed to be about an hour. I woke up after a little while and thought we ought to be there by now. I remember looking out the window after not being able to see anything but cloud for what felt like the entire journey and seeing wind turbines and thinking that it was cool that they were on the outskirts of Sydney as well as on the outskirts of Canberra. 90 minutes into the flight the captain says that we'd be back in Canberra in 10 minutes as Sydney's airport was closed due to the weather.
We get back on the ground and all mill around the gate to wait for information. The young guy there assures everyone he would announce any updates over the PA when they become available. Some passengers head off to the Virgin lounge, some head off for coffee or to the bathroom, while the rest of us hang around by the gate. Finally the announcement we were hoping for comes, and that we would be departing immediately as the airport had re-opened. Everyone is lined up for about 10 minutes before the young man gets off the phone and seems to start and stop his announcement two or three times before finally breaking the news that the flight had been cancelled due to the pilots having logged too many flight hours for the day, and that it would be unsafe for us to fly.
Straight away I'm thinking things like.. Why wouldn't airlines have contingency plans for things like this? Why wouldn't rosters be adjusted to allow other pilots to be moved on to other flights as a priority? It's only another hour, surely you can just fucking suck it up and fly. What's the worst that can happen? The planes fly themselves for most of the journey anyway.
The next two hours I worked myself up in to a massive ball of stress. No one could tell us what was going on. The ground staff seemed to be dealing with a different group of unhappy customers in an unrelated manner. They looked like shit people so I had little empathy for them. I wanted to know when a new pilot would be arriving and when I'd be getting back on that plane. There was one lady there. Canberra's airport, exactly like Canberra, is unnecessarily big and confusing to get around in and by the size of it you'd expect a whole lot more people working and a whole lot more flights coming and going. One lady. We were all waiting around for direction and all the lady could really tell us was that they could put us up in the hotel near the airport for free, and that the recovery team would allocate people to available seats on flights the next day. The next fucking day. I had an meeting I needed to be in Sydney for at 9am. I opted to stay in Sydney overnight so I'd be there early and not have to wake up early as opposed to flying in the morning.
Two hours.
Two hours I was on the phone to the travel booking team through my work trying to arrange to change my accommodation, trying to change my flights. I was trying to get on the front foot and get in before everyone else because my requirements were time sensitive. The woman on the phone was just talking and talking and I wanted to tell her to shut her mouth and just do the job but my anxiety kept listening to her talk and talk while other people got information I wasn't able to hear while I was on the phone, while I was sending text messages to my boss to update him on when/if I would be there the next day. I tried booking online. I'm sitting on the floor of the airport with my wallet sprawled open and cards everywhere. Copious free seats on multiple flights and for some reason multiple credit cards keep failing at payment and sending me back to the start. I try calling Virgin and can't get through to anyone.
By now everyone has left. My phone has about 7% battery. I've accepted that I'm staying in Canberra another night and I've arranged to be picked up by my colleague, but even that is stressing me out as the area I'm waiting in has been shut off at the corner, and the area I've been told to go to has also been shut off when I get down there because there aren't any other flights and there aren't any other people around. I simultaneously get a text message from Virgin saying I'd been allocated on a flight the next day, and a call back I'd requested about booking a new flight. The gentleman on the phone doesn't have the capability to make any changes to the flight I'd been allocated, which is far too late. More waiting. The woman I eventually speak to tries everything within her power, including refreshing multiple flights "just in case" someone logs in and isn't happy with their newly allocated flight and opts to change it. I've lost. I'm mentally exhausted. I'm starving. I'm tired. I've just about broken down in to tears in the middle of the road having paced back and forth trying to sort my trip/life out.
I eat McDonalds in my hotel bed and I send some work emails at 11pm and go to sleep. Having just had the realization that this problem I have isn't a one-off.
Today back at work has been a bit of a day of admitting that I need some help. I coincidentally had my mid-year personal achieve and develop meeting with my boss and spoke at length that the things that have been causing me to doubt myself and my ability to do my job adequately aren't borne out of being incapable - in fact I've met all of my KPI's from the past 6 months, every single one - that it's because my own head is causing me to make everything harder than it is and make me question my desire to be in any position of responsibility or standing. And also my own existence. Is it all worth it? Could I just quit and do a menial task; would that make me happier? My job isn't the driving factor behind this epiphany, but it is something that both contributes to it and is affected by it.
Then out of the blue, one of my best friends sends me a text message asking me how life is going. And I'd just spent two days with him in Sydney once I'd finally got there. I didn't speak up to him as he was going through a bit of a crisis that I'd just so happened to be around to help with. So I kept my mouth shut and kept myself guarded. But having replied with "I'm struggling a little bit, actually" we spoke on the phone for an hour about how his dad had to quit his job due to anxiety, even though he didn't want to, in a time where mental illness wasn't acknowledged. He quietly struggled for his whole life with it. I don't want to quietly struggle with it inside my own head. I can't continue to accept that I'm just an asshole that hates everyone, that hates everything. Everyone doesn't suck, everything doesn't suck. It's me and it's in my head.
My only worry now is that I'll use it as an excuse. That I'll shy away from things outside of my comfort zone because I'm feeling uncomfortable, or incapable, or insignificant. It's why I don't do things or go places or talk to/meet people. It doesn't make it OK for me to stay inside my safe little home and do nothing.
I can't.