In response to the comments of the last post, Tera, I have learned quite well. I'm paying for the services, so they have to step to me correctly. If not, I am going to let them know this. :-D
Scott, it was the whirlwind that I used to fear. Or maybe something nameless. Just a general "Oh No, I'd Better Not"-ness of life. Whatever that was, it's been keeping me back for decades. For me it didn't just end at a service counter. It's a miracle that I have had jobs, any girlfriends, or made any major changes at all.
I mean, I guess I can afford to give myself some credit where it's due. I have fought through a lot of fear and have successfully carried out a lot of life decisions. Before I started blogging, I didn't have a lot of people in my corner. There was MFTD, but precious little else. I'd already effectively left my religion, so all those supports were gone. But I did do things.
Yet, I look back and I see a succession of flops. All the women I've left. All the jobs I've burned through. I once had a job that pays me more than I make now, which was visiting at-risk youth in their homes, assessing their needs, and supervising counselors. I abandoned it because the fear of visiting these unknown places and facing unknown challenges grew to the point of phobia. That was when I first lived in NYC. When I stopped that job, I lost the ability to afford to stay in NY, and thus my eviction. When I look back on the original blogposts of that job, it's clear to see the anxiety creeping up on me. I had put it in writing. I soldiered on. I was using the blog to slog it out. But obviously, it was not enough.
Even the job I have right now--guess what? I've had it for 2 1/2 years, and I've already burned through all my personal/sick time. I have zero hours. I didn't spend them all on car accidents, let me tell you. I spent them on late arrivals at the job, and days I didn't feel good enough to even go to work. I've posted on some of those days. I called them "Playing Hooky," while most of the people I work with are being penalized for having too much sick time and never having used them. NEVER USING SICK TIME?!!? Unimaginable to me to believe that people could work five days a week, 4.3 weeks a month, 12 months a year, year after year without taking off anything but the holidays. Unfathomable.
Why did I wait so long to get treatment? By its sheer definition, I had/have a disorder. There were literally days in my life that I couldn't function. And if not days, then crucial hours at the least. Hours that threw me off game for the rest of the day.
Bah. Blub blub blub. Done now. Future's ahead. I've gotten treatment. I'm not just a "morning person" now. I'm a "functioning person."
That's alright with me.
So let's end on a laugh, shall we?
Look what I found. There's a series of this lil' dude...