I feel like while I am at work I can control my environment. I can chose when and how I do something, and pretty much know what going to happen. There are no surprises. I can feel the anxiety within me, that is the social anxiety of being away from the comforts of my bed where I feel safest, but I feel able to manage it, Hold it in check. It's like it sits in a little ball in my gut just circling. I know its there, but because I can control so much here it never explodes, never rises. Well - for the most part it never rises.
Then add the change of environment to going home - a transition makes my anxiety worse. And at home, I can't control anything. So I survive for as long as I can, trying to keep my anxiety in check - and then when I could exert some control (IE when the kids go to bed), I have no energy. I cant make the decisions. I can't function. So I retreat to my bedroom, early every night, and write and think, and succumb to the numbing and sleep inducing aspects of my medication hoping that when Andrea comes to bed she isn't so mad as to not cuddle with me, and hoping that tomorrow, maybe tomorrow, I will have enough energy to function in the evening, and the anxiety wont be as bad as it was the day before.
And every day I wake up, and I try. And I feel okay. I know what to expect most mornings, and when I am surprised I can handle it - sometimes. But by about noon, every day, the anxiety about going home begins to grow. I like being at home, I like being with my family. I really like being in my bed - its so safe. But I can't stop the anxiety. And it literally hurts me, physically, mentally, and emotionally.
I don't know how to stop the anxiety, and the anxiety feeds me depression, which feeds my anxiety...I just want to stay in bed forever, and it would if not for the overwhelming guilt I feel about it.