Back to Square One

A few weeks ago, I found a new job working in a kitchen.  I’d finally made the break I had been looking for!  I loved every minute of it, the pressure, the hard work, the rush, every last bit.  It was stressful, but I knew it was what I wanted to do and that I could do it.

That all went out the door when I had a panic attack during my shift last night.  I was inconsolable for a solid continuous hour before finally somewhat calming down, but I still haven’t recovered.  I’m nervous, twitchy, panicky, and have been crying on and off all day.  And considering my history with these kind of events and the severity of this one, I don’t foresee this changing for at least a few days.

The worst part?  It legitimately wasn’t the job this time.  I was willing and able to do the work, and I loved it.  For the first time in my life, I was making money in a way that was making me happy.  But none of that mattered in the end.  It’s the same result as before, just at a much faster pace.

This is awful.  I’ve thrown away yet another opportunity that’s passed my way because of mental instability.  This was going to be the one, the chance I needed to finally be happy with my career, my location, and life in general.  And my broken brain decided to ruin things again.

But I have at least learned something. I’m the problem and nothing else.  Not my location, my environment, my family, who I’m with, what I’m doing, or what’s going on.  Yeah, any and all of those things can alleviate or trigger the issue, but in the end, it’s all in me.  It’s my brain, my instability, my illness.

So  where does that leave me?  I’m back to no job, no working medication, and little to no support system.  I need to do something, but I’m not sure how to start.  I’m lost, broken, and confused with no real indication of where to go from here.  I guess at least it can’t get much worse than it is?