I'm Scared Of Myself, Sometimes

  I'm up again at four-thirty in the morning. I'm not really tired, just tired of feeling sick. I'm getting over what was a really bad cold. I'm not someone who gets sick very often-- maybe twice or three times a year at most; however, with that being said, I cannot remember a time in my life where I've had a cold as bad as this was.
  I hate calling-out of work. I always try my hardest to grin and bear it. As a matter-of-fact, I tried to go to work on Monday when I was first starting to get sick, only to end-up leaving after three and a half hours had gone by. I went to the doctor on Tuesday, he let me know that I had the symptoms of a bad cold that's been going around, wrote me up a prescription, and gave me a note for another day out of work.
  I am miserable. I hate to say it, but I am just wallowing in my own self-pity and that's just how it is right at this moment. I have been sick since Sunday night, I will have missed three days of work by the end of today, I have a meeting at work tomorrow that I'm nervous about, I work a double on Thursday, and a double on Friday. That should put me right at around 21 hours this week, which should have been 40+.
  I've been laying my hand on my heart in the darkness of our bedroom at night when I wake up with no reason, other than the pounding going on in my chest and my thoughts racing around, worrying me. Last night was bad. Joey came to bed at around ten or eleven, which woke me up, only to immediately evoke my mind into an unexplained panic. I had to go and sit on our couch and pray, asking Jesus to help me.
  I hate using the word "anxiety" because I feel like a lot of people throw that word around today, which, in-turn makes me scared to use it, because I don't know if people will take me seriously, but I know that something in my brain doesn't shut-up or shut-off when I'm in a social situation, preparing for a social situation, or even a business situation. It causes me to see hours as minutes, and minutes as seconds. It also makes me view moments as something that I will one day never have anymore, versus what I have in that moment.
  I asked Joey last night, before bed, what he thought I was going to do with my life. "I think that you could do amazing things if you stopped doubting yourself the second that you became consistent." Why is it that the millisecond that I can feel myself taking charge of my own life, I immediately run and hide? The moment that I can feel that nobody is in my way, except myself, I get scared and become a shell of myself. The fact that I'm in charge of my own future is scary to me. I'm scared of myself.
  "What do I want to be when I grow up and how am I going to get there?" is still a question my adult-self asks, and I'm learning that it's okay to still not know.
  I'm writing this blog post in what feels like a daze. If I had to guess, it's because I'm taking some form of a Sudafed and most likely a little too much Dayquil. Please disregard if it made no sense.

kati