I feel like I've had a bit of a setback tonight. I was okay for most of the day, then when I was driving to a café to do some writing, I heard an odd noise in my car, a weird little twittering, sounded almost birdlike. I couldn't figure out what it was, and it stopped after a couple of minutes. Then some ridiculous part of my head asked myself, "What if I imagined it? What if it was all in my head?" Then, of course, I had an absurd fear: "What if I start hearing voices?" One of my obsessions is that I'm pretty much every brand of "crazy." Most of me knew I was being ridiculous, but the anxiety always seems to scream louder than anything else. I could feel my heart racing for the next couple of hours, and I've been a little on edge for the rest of the night. I'm sure it didn't help that I had a dose of caffeine courtesy of the latté I usually drink while I'm working on my writing. I told myself when I went in that it was a bad idea, but somehow the idea of changing a routine didn't really appeal to me. I guess it was counterproductive, given that it involved caffeine, but when my anxiety hits, I somehow tend to cling to familiar things, even things as mundane as a cup of coffee.
If someone else were posting this, I'd be quick to give words of encouragement and say that we all hit little stumbling points now and then, but I feel a little disappointed, considering I was so hopeful the other night. On the other hand, I'm trying not to be too hard on myself – thinking too much about it and dwelling on what this little hiccup in my upward climb means is only going to make things worse. Of course, there's that tiny part of me that worries that my ups and downs make me bipolar. It occurred to me tonight that if everything I ever feared were true, I'd probably be the world's first schizophrenic bipolar sociopath (oh, and I'd have brain tumors and cancer pretty much everywhere). Looking at it from that perspective, it's kind of difficult not to slap myself upside the head and tell myself I'm being an utter twit.
I still haven't gotten into CBT yet. The therapist I'd had picked out called me after she got back from her vacation, told me she doesn't have availability for evening appointments right now, and she's considered "out of network" for my insurance plan. Without the insurance, appointments with her are going to cost me $125 each. There's just no way I can manage that, and my insurance will be nonexistent within the next few weeks anyway when my job lays me off. For now, I guess I'm on my own – with the OCD workbook and peer support, that is. And there are much worse positions a person could be in.