Fear, Dread, and that damn Black Dog.

Life's a funny old thing. Just when you think you've got your shit together the old rug gets pulled out from under you.

I have been dealing with Tracy's illness for a long time and apart from the fear and dread you expect, you kinda find a way to deal with it. It's definitely easier when most other parts of your life are in check and running smoothly enough. With coming across a lot of homeless people in the day to day dealings of working in the city you come to understand how fragile the mind really is. All it takes is a few of the major moons and planets that balance your universe to become misaligned to affect the tides and amount of sun, rain, storms, and darkness.

Earlier this year Tracy got VERY sick. She wound up on life support for four days and the impact of initially walking into the room never leaves you. It really is a shock. A jolt. A fright. You're unknowingly left traumatised from what is best described as an injury to your psyche.

The Moon:

Work became out of sorts for me lately. I walked into work one Monday - about a month ago - and found out the job I've been doing for four and a half years is no longer mine. They put me into another area with promises of helping me to keep pursuing my career direction ... by not helping me keep pursuing my career direction. More and more I'm being pulled away from my choices.

The Sun:

What became apparent with Tracy's uh ... turn .. - for the want of a better description - earlier this year is that apart from her on-going issues there's a new one involved that is causing her body to attack muscles in an incredibly debilitating way. She was in hospital this week for treatment for it, and for some reason, this time, it hit me hard. I really don't if it's a hangover from that 'injury to the psyche' earlier this year, but I found myself incapacitated.

You think stupid things occasionally, but feeling the want to drive in to an on-coming truck really is a scary thing. It's not something I would ever do, and the moment I thought it I realised something was up. I pulled over. Got my shit together. And headed for work. I bypassed the usual ritual, and headed straight for HR.

"I'm not well. I need help."

Things feel out of control within myself. It's weird. I look like I always have, and kinda act like I always have. I function. I can pay my bills. But there's this ... thing ... on my shoulder. Panic, fear, dread and sadness, are its personalities. It's an inability to handle stressful situations, unlike how I've always been able to. I've always been armed with tools to handle stress. I can only do so much. I will give it my best, but if I fall short I know it was from things out of my control. I can justify why I fell short, and it wasn't from lack of professionalism and effort.

Work hard. Think straight.

Now it's panic, anger, fear, and frustration all rule with stress.

Fuck it.

I have a plan. A plan to shift that fucking Moon back into position. So why can't I follow through on it? Why can't I just DO IT???

I'm scared of work now, where it was my place to get my teeth into something I really did enjoy. It was a distraction from Tracy's on-going issues and things were in place within myself to handle whatever Tracy's body threw at us.

Now, it's an avalanche. Now things are too heavy. Now I'm weighed down.

I'm off work this week. HR and my boss gave me the week to try and figure things out. I have to ring tomorrow to let them know where I'm at. I'm scared shitless.

Just do it.