Then the guilt, God the guilt I felt when we were going back home, when it hit me that I had managed to ruin yet another night out that we rarely get to have because of work and other family obligations. Ryan never complained, love his heart, but I know it has to be hard to deal with.
I called in to work today and made an appointment to see my doctor. Went in with chattering teeth, sweaty hands, and a BP reading of 142/96, very nearly on the verge of another panic attack. Thank goodness for my saint of a husband, because without him there I doubt I could have gotten a word out coherently. I also think he was able to more accurately tell my doctor what I’ve been going through because he sees it firsthand, whereas I just feel like I am going clinically insane.
I left with a prescription for Celexa and Hydroxyzine.
I hope this helps, because I am at wit's end with all of this crap.