Yesterday was the SSDI hearing. Turns out I was dealt the most difficult judge, and despite my intense anxiety I went in feeling more confident than I expected to be going in (which is slightly laughable, considering I was on the verge of a panic attack at any given moment).
I couldn’t tell for certain, as the man was straight-faced and tight-lipped, but I’m about 98% certain he didn’t like what I had to say. I laid everything bare, even things I haven’t told my therapist at this point… all of these horrible questions making me say things I didn’t want to say (but needed to). I answered the questions as best as I could, and despite the anxiety felt a stillness of emotion for the hour I was engaged.
I’d be lying if I said it was anything less than traumatizing. The sense of relief I felt when I walked out the door (feeling as if I’d done and said everything I possibly could have) lasted about an hour. As soon as Corey and I got on the bus, it began. My mind started replaying every little detail, every moment that made me cringe. Every instant I have suddenly began second-guessing. All of this has made up some horrible loop in my mind, giving me only a 15-60 second window of being able to think about anything before my thoughts automatically cycle back to the hearing. The hearing. The hearing. The hearing.
“Alan Tudyk will be at comic con this year… what about when you said you’d only posted your blog once last week? It looks suspiciously like three posts. But I did technically only post once! One was a re-blog and the other two I wrote at once and scheduled to be posted on the same day. That’s one day’s work, it just looks like three!”
I got in bed early last night and took an Ambien to silence this obsessive inner monologue. I felt sneaky, like maybe I had beaten it, when it started up again at 4 o’clock this morning.
I’ve been trying very hard to look at this hearing like I might look at a job interview. The way I feel about most jobs is that I am not particularly interested at first, I’ve even been wary about the amount of stress the job would put on me. Then, after thinking about it a little, I become interested. As time begins to pass, my enthusiasm begins to grow, and I move from being interested, to wanting the job, to passionately wanting the job, to feeling like I need the job and ultimately feeling like I can’t live without it.
In the last year, my mind has moved from a place where “it would be nice” to have SSDI benefits to, “there is no point in living if you don’t have them,” (which I understand is untrue, just the way my brain tends to exaggerate sometimes). Undoing this thought is difficult, and doesn’t really lend itself well to helping me not frantically obsess over this for eons.
The truth is that I’ve been obsessing over this for a year. I am ready, really ready, to obsess over something else. Wrestling with this situation has been extremely difficult, so please refrain from calling/texting me right now in an attempt to find out more detail about how things went. That’s why I’m writing this post.
Luck was not on my side. I will find out “for certain” in a few weeks, but I can say with some assurance I really don’t believe I won.