Day "Whatever" of Ativan withdrawal

I have no memory anymore. Do you really expect me to remember what day it is?

The headaches and joint pain have gotten better, but the ADD and demotivation have gotten worse. Guilt and paranoia are kicking in too. I packed my stoopid stoopid work that I have to read through and respond to, and dragged my ass through the shower, stopping only long enough to wash my hair but not shave my legs. I shuffled down to the coffee shop on the corner where I agonized over notes about work. The dog was tied up outside, on a gorgeous day, happy as a clam to be out, and I kept thinking, "Other owners are so much better than I am. I suck as a dog owner. My dog hates me." ???

Now the phone is ringing and I sing at it, "Shut up! Shut up! Leave me alone, stoopid phone!"

But I can't get myself to go over and turn it off. That would require energy.

And the guilt is the worse part. The dread of all of those post-episode apologies and excuses. "Sorry, sorry. Voicemail was broken. Um, phone was broken. No, wait, it was me, I was broken. Couldn't get fixed soon enough. No warranty."


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