Epic Failure

Today I started out with the very best intentions to try to let anxiety not get the best of me.  Unfortunately, the score is Anxiety 1, Brenda 0. 

I have not slept more than a three-hour stretch for over eight years, that is until recently with the help of Trazodone.  While it doesn't seem to matter how early I go to bed, I find myself sleeping until at least 10 a.m.  The drug helps me sleep, which is great, but it has this "hangover effect" that is almost as bad as not sleeping.  Most days, I don't start feeling any motivation until about 2 p.m., and by about 9 p.m. I feel my best.  I take advantage of the good hours, which means I stay up half the night.  I know it's a vicious cycle I need to break, but it's easier said than done.  I've always been a night owl, and in the past, have gotten so used to staying up until 3 a.m. and still being up by 8 a.m.  Last night I watched "Rescue Me" until about 3:30 a.m. and I didn't even wake up until almost noon! 

I had about an hour and a half conversation with Jack today, which always cheers me up.  It seems like if I start my day out by talking with someone, I'm generally perkier.  Normally I love my alone time, but after eight months of rarely being around other humans, it gets depressing. 

After I got off the phone with him, I decided I was actually going to do something with myself for once.  By this I mean actually do my hair and make-up, and get out of the house.  It's been at least a couple of weeks since I've done this, and I've learned in the past, sometimes if you try to "trick" yourself into feeling better, you actually do.  While this has helped when I've had colds or the flu, anxiety seems to win this match every time.  Now, as seen in the picture on the left, on the outside I look like everybody else in the world, right?  Healthy, happy, "normal".  I spent about 10 minutes outside, cleaned the cat's litter box, took out the trash, came back in, and now feel miserable.  In one of my previous posts I described dissociation a little, which is what I'm feeling now.  Ever since I was a kid, this seems to hit me the hardest when I'm outdoors.  My brother is the same.  I had planned on hopefully taking some pictures today, but now I feel so miserable that I'm sitting on the couch blogging.  How can someone who appears to physically be fine, feel so badly on the inside and struggling so much in terms of anxiety?

If there were a mountaintop anywhere near me, I think that this would be the point that I would be screaming from it.  So, I beg of you, if any of you have any  advice or tips on how to kick this mental anguish's ass, please let me know!