Things have been much better. I got through Friday's panic and managed to go to the happy hour event and make it through in one piece. I drank a non-alcoholic beer which was interesting enough, then a diet coke with gigantic plate of Irish fries for good measure. Had another good talk with Chris Saturday morning. He and his fiance both offered up some interesting insights, including the concept of a gaping hole that exists within me that I am constantly trying to fill. Makes sense, I think they're right. The other thing I realized is that I think my great discomfort with all of this was stemming from the alarming nature of having to sit there with all of my thoughts and feelings, with nothing to soothe or temper them. Progressing through Saturday I became comfortable enough with the dark nature of my non medicated psyche to just sit with it. I didn't love it but I did it. Saturday afternoon Charlie and I went to see The Hunger Games, which, I'm sure you can imagine totally helped to get rid of all the dark thoughts.
Sitting with the darkness - okay I can do it, but it's certainly not going to make me happy. I think that's the thing with the alcohol - it makes unbearable things at least tolerable. But now, what to do about the panic?
Speaking of panic, last Tuesday while mopping off the laundry room floor in my new home, I sent one of the floor tiles scuttling off across the room. Upon further inspection, I realized a number of these floor tiles were actually quite loose and so I carefully removed them which was pretty easy as they were barely adhering anymore. Now, I knew there was a chance that these tiles contained asbestos as it's an older house that was built in the 50's. It was really stupid of me to sit there and remove the tiles like that, practically inhaling their contents, and I spent a great deal of my time the remainder of the week panicking about me and my cats and our possible asbestos exposure. I called Charlie to notify him of the situation, informing him that if I do become diagnosed with lung cancer it will most likely be due to those evil asbestos floor tiles and not the ciggies I gave up over a year ago. Upon doing a bit of internet research on the matter, I became really panicked. Turns out, smokers also exposed to asbestos fare even worse, a sort of deadly double whammy situation.
After a couple days spent obsessing about it, I decided to get the damn laundry room tiles tested. I got the results back today and of course they're 7% asbestos. Great.
Well, the laundry room is just one room in a huge basement filled with 'possibly' asbestos tiles. Now what? Encapsulation or removal of an entire basement full of these awful things, how fun and affordable I'm sure. The whole thing is incredibly overwhelming and not something I feel equipped to deal with. If I'm going to die of asbestos exposure anyways, maybe I should enjoy the rest of my days. Not yet.
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