The days just keep getting harder

As some of you might of guessed who read my previous blog entry. Yesterday was a BAD day.
This am: 113
I wish someone would explain to me how working out makes you gain weight.
So yesterdays events went as followed. Woke up hung over. Ate left over mac and cheese and baked potato salad. Puked. Called the IRS about why they seem to think I didn't file my 2007 state taxes. When I received this letter I thought to myself. This will be a piece if cake. Travis also received a letter and all he had to do was call and fax something in. Not me, oh no, because that would make me lucky. I'm extremely UNlucky. So u called and lady goes into "my archives." Conversation went like this:
"Let me check into this for you. *typing...typing...click...click....* oh I see here we also don't have your 2005 state taxes. I hate to tell you this but you will be pentalized if we don't receive this either. Even though the letter is referring to 2007. Now that I found this they will be looking for this year's too, and no we didn't receive 2007's."
My response,"...."

*time lapse*
so Im at work and I'm literally having a panic attack right now. My chest is tight and I'm having trouble breathing. I know it's a panick attack but I can't shake it. Work is trying to kill me. I've come to that conclusion. I'm sick and tired of everyone leaving everything to me. I'm just expected to work 13 hour days. I'm just expected to pick up the slack. I seriously can't take this anymore. I'm not getting compensated enough to deal with this. I'm starting to have physical reactions to the stress. I'd rather just cry, but instead I'm trying to vent via blogging to try and get my breaths under control.
This place is not being ran right. The new girl had the audacity to ask when she was leaving. "When we get everything done." Was my response. I hate being cold. I hate being bitter. In trying to not bitch. To not let everyone see how miserable I am. Be a good manager, but it's hard. It's showing on my face no matter how hard I try to plaster on a smile. It's not that I can just leave, because I'll be panicking for the rest of the day about having to finish it tomorrow. I really thought that other place I interviewed for would have called me. I blew them away, well...I guess not huh? It's been 2 weeks. I really hate my work life. I need a new job. Why isn't God opening any doors, am I really meant to stick this out? Is there really a light at the end of this tunnel? It's hard to see. Almost as hard as it is to believe. I know I'm being used, manipulated, controlled. It kills me. It slaps me back into the ground at a rough decline.

Please dear God help me through this day, much like you did yesterday.
Yesterday Travis came home and hugged me, and I just cried. I cried bc I had my answer. If nothing else I'm meant to be here to be his wife. To bear his children. To grow old with him, and sit in rocking chairs laughing about the good ol times. I'm meant to lie beside him on the beaches of Mal Pais. Both of us mesmerized by our surroundings and most importantly each other. He's my rock. My husband, that is one thing I have. One thing to be greatful for. He accepts me through all my flaws. He truly loves ne unconditionally, and that's something to smile about. If only on the inside.

I just chained smoke like 3 cigarettes. Probably not doctor recommended for relief of a panick attack, but I'm trying. I'm proud of myself for stepping away from That situation going on inside. I'm taking a mental break... And mental break's over. Unfortunately.