Attack

Yesterday, I saw the dipshit DM in the store. So much for the two promises The Manager gave me. (To review, the first was that I wouldn't be scheduled when the dipshit is scheduled to visit and the second is that he wouldn't just drop in.) No one sure why he came, but her was there. I saw him, turned around, walked outside, and sat with my back to the door so I wouldn't have to see his goatee bearded face. Jackass.

I knew I shouldn't go to work today. I should have called in sick. I could tell as I walked out the door that this wasn't a day for working.

I got to the parking lot twenty minutes before work (11:55 AM) and just sat listening to music. I didn't want to go in, but I did. That's when I felt the tightening of the chest, the closing of the throat, and the clammy palms. All the warning signs of a panic attack. All except one time, when I've felt this way, I walk away until I feel better. At parties, I head home or at least outside into the air where I can get some good air. At school, I'd pick up my bag and head out. In my car, I pull over and get out. At work, I couldn't see a way out, so I started working.

I was put on drive-thru and just stood over there and stared out into the parking lot taking deep breaths and telling myself I'd be okay. When I felt worse, I walked into the back room and sat on the step ladder until I didn't feel too overwhelmed.

On my break at two, I just sat there. Assistant Manger #2, who was in charge, asked me if I was okay and I said that I wasn't. She asked me what she could do and I said she could send me home. She laughed. I looked at her and said that I meant it. She said I could sit back there for as long as I wanted. I looked away and played with my headset. When my break was over, I went out front and started taking orders again while staring out into the parking lot.

Eventually, TGMM came in and started talking to me. I wasn't talking back. She asked me how I was. I said bad. She asked what could be done to make it better. I said I should go home. She went and talked to #2 and then came back to say I could leave. So I did and felt bad about it, which made me feel worse.

I sat in my car for ten minutes until I felt like I could safely drive and then drove at least five miles under the speed limit the whole way.

When I got home, I crawled into bed and stared at the wall and ceiling for the next three hours.

I'm feeling better now.