Best Laid Plans

Robot Brain

I read my post from yesterday morning and thought, what the fuck am I thinking? I’m fucking out of my mind. I can barely function in public spaces when I am alone. I’m out here trying to present myself as a functioning person? I have to admit, I talk a good game.

I was walking the 2 miles to the grocery store and thinking how the hell am I going to jump into a group of people and socialize? With my backstory? I have no backstory. What do you for work? Oh, shit… You stumped me… I’m on disability? For what? Oh fuck! Now what?

When I meet people and tell them I am on disability, most of them are concerned with what I do all day. Like you can’t have a meaningful life without a job… Jobs are meaningless. What do you do all day? “Whatever it takes to make it through the day”, I say. Apparently that is not an acceptable answer.

Anyway, on my way to the grocery store I’m thinking how the hell am I going to introduce myself to a group of strangers without sounding like a total freak. I fail at the most basic responses. The whole walk I was talking to myself, because that is who I talk to the most. My anxiety was sky high. Negative thinking. I can’t do this, I don’t even think I can go into the grocery store. Good thing it was so hot outside. The burning sweat disguised my tears. I don’t know how I did it

Sometime in the past couple months I took out a sheet of white paper and wrote the words, “STICK TO THE PLAN”, I taped it to my apartment door and read it every time I went out. Now I look at it and I can’t remember what the plan is…What is the plan? I remember it was a mantra to make it through my anxiety. Stick to the plan! Don’t make any decisions based on anxiety. Every time I freaked out I would try to change the plan. Every time it would be a mistake. I caught myself with my my mantra. “Stick to the Plan.”

I just can’t remember what the plan was. Today I was thinking the plan was to go out with a group of people and I should stick to the plan despite my anxiety about never being in public for years. I had it all mapped out… You read it… Maybe.

I finally got the correct tube for the tire on my bike. I wasn’t going to do it. But, Stick to plan. I was freaking out already but I had to concentrate. It was easy. I knew it would be easy, but it was easier than I thought. Or so I thought. I popped off the tire, found I needed a dull knife to remove the bead, no problem, pulled out the tube, put in the new tube. That is when I ran into a problem. The valve stem was too short to hold my air pump. The store next door has a coin operated compressor. I carried the tire over and put in the 50 cents. It was tricky and I tried several manipulations and it worked. Almost. I pinned the tire between my knee and the landscape brick. Success! BOOM! The tube exploded! I overfilled it. I fucking lost it. Instant panic attack. I was crying and hyperventilating and people all around were looking towards me wondering where the loud sound came from. It was me. I picked up the wheel and started walking quickly towards my place. Every turn I came across more people. More than ever before. This place is usually desolate. WTF?l Finally made it to my building. Someone at the front door,someone ate the stairs. Someone in my hallway. Never see so many people around my building. I’m still crying and can’t catch my breath but with every encounter I try to smile and what?…

Losing my shit inside. I give up… In bed, over breathing, my whole body tingling and numb sensations. I was ready to call the whole thing off. I was ready to text that Karen woman and say I don’t need a ride, and go online and check off , I am not attending. I started thinking, Stick to the Plan. This is just anxiety, don’t let it change you plans. I got my breathing under control. See, no change in plans. Still going to meet new people Saturday..

Somehow I fell asleep and woke up a few hours later. The first time I have had real sleep in weeks. I woke up. It was dark. No idea what time? What day? Okay, got it figured out. Stick to the plan. Wait a minute. I don’t even know what the plan is about anymore. My plan is to find people to go out and get drunk? That isn’t my plan. I don’t need drinking partners. What the fuck have I been doing? I was determined to make Saturday night work. That was the “Plan”. No,that was not the plan. The plan is to keep my shit together. Focus on my daughter, family, don’t get homeless. I’m a fucking alcoholic! How is meeting other alcoholics in a bar going to help me? I had this whole fucking construct worked out. It all made sense to me. Like No!

I don’t know how I lost track of the plan. I was holding it down tight. Then I turned into a fantasy world! My new plans were to fuck up the original plans? What am I doing here? Talk about self sabotage.

Now what the fuck am I going to do? My doctor is prescribing me meds that cause side effect that make me suicidal and he knows it and when I tell him I felt better after being on the lowest dose I’ve ever been on, he told me to double it and not so subtly threatened to put me in the hospital if I didn’t do what he said. I think you will be “safer” on 80mg. I think you will be “more protected” on 80mg. I know those euphemisms.

So fuck it. I want to meet people but I can’t function in normal social settings. What do I do? I looked up mental health support groups. Nothing. They want you to pay and for some reason they are all connected to A.A. Yeah, support group. But not my style. How is that a thing? Like, yeah, the people in A.A. are crazy but a different kind of crazy and I don’t see them as my peers. I’ve been there. I don’t relate.

I looked up mental health peer support. They want to make money off you. And they aren’t even support groups. None in my area. One result came up, what if I want to force my child into a support group if they don’t want to go? You fucking pieces of shit!!!!

I guessed, what if I look on meetup dot com what I am really looking for? They have a group for everything, right? Mental health support groups. The best they got is , Empath support, with two members. They meet in a Crystal shop and offer to raise your vibrational frequencies. And a couple other fucking I’m”highe’ ideas. Nothing. Nothing.

I said fuck this shit! I created my own group. Mental health support shit. It only cost me 70 bucks for six months. I got a credit card. I don’t know. Do you think it is a good idea? I described it as I am no professional and this is a group to get away from professionals. Talk about football or your cat, I don’t give a fuck! I don’t fucking care. Right? I don’t want to go somewhere and get diagnosed with another disorder. That’s what all these websites were doing.

I may be fucking crazy, ha ha maybe, but what the fuck. There is no group to just hang out and be yourself and not get another pill thrown in your mouth? Probably a scam, they wont’ show me to other members.

I’m a fucking total mess right now. Like I’m going to start a support group??? Yeah , well maybe it’s right. Better than my doctors and therapists isolating me and telling me even with the meds my condition is still going to get worse. OH, got a side effect that is making you suicidal, talk to a therapist. Meanwhile, no word on a therapist.

I think we could be each other’s therapists. Fuck what they think they know!

2 thoughts on “Best Laid Plans

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