Anxiety: part 1 of many

Anxiety is the operating word for this day...  week...  lifetime?  No, probably not that far.  I received major issues from my parents (both genetically and via our environment) Note: I don't blame either of them for this, because I truly don't believe that they grew up in a time and place where depression and anxiety were very well understood...  much less when/where medications for those mental issues were available.  My dad is a major worrier.  I mean, major.  The man lost a significant amount of weight during his last year of employment due to the fact that he was worried about losing his job.  How horribly ironic.  Life father, like son.  To note, I have currently lost 25 pounds in the past 6 months.  This coincides with the beginning of my current job.  I really don't think this is a coincidence.

So anyway, this past Monday was the first day that I have thrown up due to anxiety when I was NOT at work.  You see, since I started my current job, I probably haven't gone 24 hours without feeling nautious...  neauseated...   whatever the correct word is.  I throw up at least 2-3 times a week in the mornings, and so far, once at work.

My doctor has recently perscribed a low dose of Xanax to help me get through the brief moments where I am experiencing panic attacks.  I have so far popped one of these today.  Just so we're all on the same page here.  I take two pills before bed (per doc's orders) to help me calm down enough to sleep.  Unfortunately, the half-life for this drug is pretty short, so halfway through each night my mind is again racing with anxious thoughts (mostly about work, finaces, and my career).  I actually wake up anxious as a result, and usually in mid-stream of thought.  So today, I called my doctor and asked if there was something different that I could do/take.  Ironically, she called me back while I was in her office's waiting room, in preperation for an appointment with my therapist.  I told her my current location, and she was able to pull me aside and prescribe a sleep aid.  Ambien, welcome to my evening routine.

Anyhow, my therapy went pretty well.  I brought in my notes from reading the book Feeling Good and shared my quiz results/notes/observations/noted quotes with her.  Most of the things that she had to say about my insight was positive, although she cautioned that I don't do one of exercises.  That exercise...  to combat perfectionism (my strange belief that all people should be without major flaws) I followed the book's advice and LOWERED my expectations for the day.  My/the book's logic was that if I make it easier to achieve my goals, I will see that it is satisfying to achieve them.  This kind of goes against everything that I believe in my professional life, but that's another story for another time.  Anyhow, my therapist brought up the fact that I routinely prepare for the worst like donning a full suit of armor every morning in case of major negative occurences happening.  So, she proposed that expecting a "bad day" (even through the process of slightly lowering my expectations) is probably similar to this mental morning routine...  and this is a routine that I need to rid myself of, because it's causing me to ignore and/or dismiss the postive things that happen every day, and brace for the worst.  Consequently, I'm constantly all riled up inside.  This is not only a major source of my anxiety, but it's also probably contributing to my depression in so much that I am mentally and emotionally exhausted from this defense and thus have little energy to devote to combating my negative and self-destructive thoughts.  So my current thought-process is that I'll just not expect ANYTHING from my day, and take it as it comes.