Shitting myself

..Not literally of course, but in the stomach clenching panic sense I am.

I just had a call from a lady with a very broad Irish accent organising a medical assessment for me. This one is to do with my claim for incapacity benefit. now, I knwo I want to get back to work, but I don't want to get forced back into full time work straight away because I knwo that will just lead to a full on relapse, I'm not prepared to deal with that again, it's taken me years to get to the stage I am now, I refuse to start from scratch and have to be carried to the toilet and forced to feed.

Yup, I'm cacking it. OK, so I know the criteria is slightly different for Incapacity benefit than it is for DLA but logic does not stop the stomach clenching, throat tightening 'oh shit' sensation that has practically paralysed me since I got off the phone.

I'm subsisting financially as it is - and that's with Stef contributing towards bills and things, if i lose this.. I know, I need to think positive and keep my spirits up or else i'll end up back in bed and lose all the ground I've gained this year, but man! I wish I could react better to stress than this.