The Resignation, Part I

I wrote the resignation letter. I emailed myself a copy so I can't deny it's existence. Today is Monday; I plan to turn it on Wednesday. My heart is in my throat.

There are staff meetings to attend later today and just about every day this week.  I previously put in for a vacation day this Friday so I can spend the weekend with my mother - she is turning 70 next week and less confident than I about my choice to resign. I plan to take the Thursday prior as a personal day. Right now I am struggling with the motivation to leave the house and get on the train - part of why I am anticipating taking additional days off. Last week I worked from home Monday and then called in sick Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. Have I mentioned that when I'm on the subway and approaching my stop for work I have to repeat to myself over and over "get off at the next stop get off at the next stop GET OFF AT THE NEXT STOP"? One time I didn't. I had to reverse back; that little incident made me realize I needed convincing just to get off the train and go to this job and that is a bad, bad sign. There were other signs, like drinking myself into oblivion so that I didn't wake up for work but as it turns out that was more due to a drinking problem than a work problem. But it is still ALSO a work problem. 

I finally reviewed my work calendar invites early this morning; I woke at 3:49am after only falling asleep around 12:30am. Anxiety. Mild hyperventilation. Full-body terror. My biological state is troubling. I don't want to attend the meetings I accepted; I don't even want to go to the office. I want all the changes I desire to happen without my participation. Confronting my demons and believing in myself is hard fucking work. I started reading The War of Art yesterday - the author calls what I am experiencing "the Resistance"; I should be comforted that the greater the symptoms, the greater the indication that I am indeed on the right path. In the deep recesses of my brain and the growing "center", I do know this, and there is a nugget of comfort there. However, the rest of me is screaming its psychic head off.