Flashbacks

I called in sick to work on Monday. In the morning, I had really bad heartburn that wasn't helped by anything I had on hand, and I honestly felt like I was going to vomit. About 10 minutes after I called in, I found some saltines. I ate a whole sleeve of them, and felt about 75% better within about half an hour.

I probably could have gone to work.

But I couldn't. So I didn't.

And I made another connection. Part of what my depression/anxiety did to me in college was render me quite the absentee student. I frequently skipped class - sometimes it was all about apathy, other times because I just couldn't bring myself to just get up and go. It was as though my weight had quadrupled overnight and no matter how I tried, I couldn't bear the heaviness of taking a shower, getting dressed, warming up my car, doing my hair, finding a godforsaken parking space, etc. And some days where everything went swimmingly right up until it was time for class, I'd freeze, or start shaking and spend the class period hiding in my office. Sometimes it hit me right away when I woke up, sometimes not until I was on campus, occasionally not at all.

Which is exactly how I've felt many mornings in the last few months. Many days, all I want to do is crawl back into bed and check out for a few more hours. Unfortunately, supervisors are not the same as bursars. While one of the most unpleasant consequences of my college-age depression/anxiety was having $30K in debt with no degree to show for it, the consequence I could be dealing with here is loss of livelihood. Unemployment. Corporate America isn't like college, where you can withdraw from a class, but so long as your bill is paid they welcome you back next semester with open arms and an open cash drawer, ready for your next deposit. You don't show up for work, and the attendance policy ushers you out the door and gives you a bad reference to boot.

Unemployment is exactly the LAST thing I need right now. I've done the unemployment thing in the past (not depression/anxiety-related), and I turned into the biggest of the Debbie Downer schlubs for 6 months, to the point where when my husband saw me dressed up for interviews again, it was a shock. We're talking the same tshirt and yoga pants for weeks on end. Not a pretty sight.

And now if you'll excuse me, the alarm goes off in six hours and I don't plan on gaining any weight while I sleep.