Pain. in Phoenix

Had a really hard day at work today. Almost 11 hours. I am not cut out for that and I don’t know how to make my chef understand. I mean, I guess there’s no way to make him understand. The man doesn’t even believe chemical imbalances are a real thing. He literally called it a myth when I attempted to address my mental illness with him. “Chemical imbalances aren’t real, they’re a myth.” Seriously, fuck that guy and fuck the restaurant industry. It’s so fucking toxic. And I love my job! That’s the worst part about the whole thing. I actually love the place I work and every one of my co-workers. The owners are incredible people, my co-workers are all just decent people. And then there’s my chef. Fucking baby boomer, anyway. Fuck that guy.

Being a holiday weekend, of course we were insanely busy, which was expected. What was not expected was the fact that we have lost almost our entire kitchen staff over the last couple of months and none of them have been replaced. More and more work gets piled on me like I’m some kind of fucking magician who can suddenly do the work of 3 people… and for only a third of the price! Ugh, seriously, FUCK that guy!

I had a pretty major anxiety attack while working today. I had to walk out of the kitchen several times, once to go cry in the storehouse, another couple of times to hide out back and smoke a cigarette and try not to cry. I’m the prep manager, so I do a lot of cutting of things with knives. Try doing that, try thinly slicing tomatoes and onions and shit while your vision is blurry and you can’t stop shaking. So. Much. Fun. But I did it. I worked through the attack and survived it.

However, I may not survive the migraine that the anxiety attack triggered.

When the migraine hit like a ton of bricks, I put a few things together in my head. What feels like extreme stress to me triggers an anxiety attack. Then the anxiety attack triggers a migraine. The migraine triggers extreme depression and horrific amounts of negative self-talk. The self-talk triggers the crying and the crying triggers rage. I still haven’t figured out how to stop getting angry at myself for crying.

Because, you know, crying is weakness. Crying is pathetic. Crying lessens me in the eyes of others, and in my own eyes. Only losers cry, only losers can’t control their emotions.

What a load of shit, ya’ll. I know it’s a load of shit, okay? I just don’t know how to stop or change this thing, this idea that was indoctrinated into me for so many years and by so many people. I’ve spent a life surrounded by horrible, toxic people who belittled me, who mocked me when I cried, even outright laughed at me if I’d dare to show that weakness. Whenever I even get tears in my eyes, I hear Sperm Donor’s laugh in my head, his voice, “You’re so fucking pathetic, no one else will ever put up with you like I do.” The Wanker would just get angry, look at me with disdain in his eyes and nothing else, a blank face. My crying seemed to have no other affect on him. And my parents, well. Emotions are for sissies. Or something. Whatever.

All of the things triggering all of the other things and also causing my entire body to tense up to the point where I feel like a stone statue. That’s where the majority of the pain is from. Now that I’m home and sitting and almost kind of maybe starting to relax a little, oh the pain in my back and shoulders and neck. I just want to lie down and die right now. Just sleep and not wake up.

Because I have to do today all over again tomorrow.

And yeah, tomorrow is it, the end, last big hoorah of the season, and everything will calm the fuck down a little afterwards. And I’m also off on Monday and Tuesday. I can make it through the next 24 hours. I can. I’ve made it through worse. It’s only 24 hours. Right?

And then I’ll get to sleep in and relax and smoke a ton of weed and I’ll hopefully get to talk to the Unicorn a bit, which generally makes all things right with the world. I mean, really, how can anyone stay down in the dumps when they have a real live Unicorn to talk to?!

I’m not right, folks. All kinds of not right. But I will be someday. Maybe. For tonight, it’s a lot of Tylenol and quite a bit of Ibuprofen along with a good bit of THC and some Netflix.

I need a massage. And a vacation. A vacation where I do nothing but get massaged all day. Yeah. That’s what I need.