TPA 42

Today is another relaxing day. For once I don't feel like crap. Must be my medicine. I'll try to write today.

Yesterday, I found something interesting at work. There's a long hallway that leads to my work station. Local artists post on the walls and sell their works. This month's artist made quilts that I thought were pretty lame. They looked like a kid's drawing because they were based off of one. Next to each quilt was a copy of the original picture. I thought it was the artist's grandkids or something like that. After reading the pamphlet, I learned that the quilts were the based off of art made by kids who terminally ill. That made me feel bad, but I laughed it off. I'm always so quick to judge art that I don't stop and think about the work that went into it. I guess I'm a harsh critic. 

There's a lot of self stuff I want to get through today. My food stamps are due in two days but might be on hold until the government shutdown ends. I don't know what the Republicans are thinking trying to delay the goverment but it hurts me. Don't blame the Democrats. They're trying to keep people on medicade, keep people from suffering. Why is it always a Republican that causes the shut down? Every, single, time. I talked with my therapist yesterday. I told him about the issue I had at work. There are these food containers that we use for certain residents. The nurses like to use them to grab leftover food which is kind of a sin in the work area. It's not a huge problem but when there's not enough food for the residents, things get nasty. The kitchen and nursing staff also hate each other, mostly due to food shortages and I'm the one caught in the middle between them. If I had to pick a side, I think I'm on the kitchen's side. I'm employed by the kitchen, not the nurses. And it is true that the nursing team take food when they should go out to eat or prepare a lunch. So, I'm taking these containers to my quarters when my boss asks why I'm taking them. I stutter and have to restart explaining several times what I was doing. It felt like I was trying to tell a lie, and I'm a bad liar. I love watching poker but I couldn't bluff to save my hand. And when I'm put on the spot like that, it's hard for me to not rework my brain. When I'm on the clock, motor functions for the mouth turn off. I'm not much of a talker when I work but everyone around me feels the need to talk my ear off. And this causes me anxiety, like a sandcastle thats being ebbed away by the tide. Everytime I build up these walls there's something that shatters them and my anxiety comes tumbling down onto me. It doesn't help that my native state is on/off. Either I'm working or I'm not, there's not a lot of room for the natural gray. I told my therapist that sometimes it feels like I'm a sentient sinking ship. Everyone else is getting off but I'm drowning. A strange metaphor. 

When I saw that my boss had posted the schedule I panicked a little. I was only working eight days out of the two week period. Not enough money to make it through the week. I told myself I could panic or I could make a plan. I have to work more hours to make more money, but I'm not healthy enough in my head.

 So, here's my plan: 

1. Work out things with psychiatrist. I need to get better mentally and that's through medicine and therapy.

2. Do the same with therapy. I need a DBT therapist who actually meets with me on time. The current one is always late.

3. Add three days to my calendar. If I can get myself to work three days in a row without breaking, I can make more money.

4. Profit. I won't be at this job forever. Someday I'll be somewhere else with a better job and better pay check. I might even work full time if I like the job enough. 

After panicking, I spoke to my boss. When I asked for another day, she told me she liked having me here and added a day. I was hopoing that by making a plan that I could prevent myself from drowning in anxiety. It didn't help. What I need is structure. I need to know wher to go next or I start to panic. I know that I'm supposed to trust God and all that but how can I when I don't hear his voice or know how to respond to it? The God Box told me today about a pastor who always had bad articles printed about him in the local paper. No matter what he did the paper would find someway to destroy him. And he said that it was a great thing, he'd use it as fuel to improve and prove them wrong. Now that he's at the end of his work, the paper has printed a nice article about him. Joel was preaching about how God uses things or removes them. If there's something in your life that's blocking you, it's because it's fuel or has some use. I don't know if that's true for me. I have this anxiety that destroys whatever I build. I don't want to try again and again. But that's also what writers do. They have to pick up the pieces and try again.

I also told him that I think that I know why I hate my writing and myself, I'm not at this level yet. At least not at the level I want to be. And if I accept where I'm at, I'll be stuck in mediocrity for the rest of my life. To add to my list of issues, I'm afraid of new people because I either come off as too cold or too friendly. I'll say something stupid and add to my "doh" moments. I have these flashbacks to painfully stupid moments that no one else seems to remember but me. I told my therapist that it was like that scene in InsideOut where these characters put this memory of "Triple Mint Gum" into the kid's head for no reason. It's the same for me. I'll be minding my own business when I'll have Homer Simpson "Doh!" moment that ruins the rest of my day. I feel like I don't value my own life sometimes. Not that I want to die but that I don't care if I do. I don't cling to life the way the victims in the Saw movies.