I must tell you all, right off the bat, that I know I haven’t written anything for several weeks. I really feel bad about it because I know it helps me get through a lot. I’ve put my volunteer work on hold for this month because of the extreme anxiety I’m feeling about my health and the crazy developments with my father’s estate and, as such, the state of my family life. The stresses have really gotten to me where I am, once again, staying away from the outside world most of the time and hiding in my online games. So boring I know. I do go to my appointments and have made more effort into cooking some meals the last few days than relying on junk food. It helps that Carly is home to eat.
After messing up the last 2 appointments booked with my new mental health worker we finally met each other for the second time. It all went well until she asked me how my typical day goes. I was quite embarrassed about it until I remembered that I do get up early twice a week for when my granddaughter comes over for the day. (So fun to be with her…two years old and so cute and full of goof). She asked me what my stresses are and I told her about the above mentioned in more detail. It was a pretty substantial list but mostly I have such fast and negative thoughts. Then I was to go over the positive things in my life which were fewer but still easy to come up with; kids, boyfriend, and my finances are a little better. I was also to tell her about what I do to help the with stress. Again the list was small but at the end of the meeting she said that column would eventually be full and she could see how low my self-worth and self-esteem were and she has the tools to work on those negative thoughts.
I so desperately want that. So much. Which is one reason why I’m writing tonight.
It’s been mind-numbing during the day and my sleep is filled with monsters and fear. Restful sleep is really not a part of my nights. It’s mostly 3 or 4 in the morning when my brain will finally shut down and my eyes slam shut for anywhere from 5 to 12 hours of sleep. I slept a day away a few weeks ago with a total of 19 hours. Crazy.
One thing I told my worker that I was sure I looked like a “mental health patient” with my shaking and whatever. She assured me I looked just fine and start thinking more positive about that at least.
Well, sure thing. Except for last night…
My fella and I were finally getting to have some time together and were going out for supper except I kinda and sorta forgot about the going out part only because it was later than I thought we would be going. He called and said he was here and I had just got out of the shower and was dripping wet, naked and just figured, no problem, I’ll just throw something on and let him into my building like I usually do. I went to the front door, where he usually waits, then the back door but no fella. I was quite confused. I called him and asked him where the heck was he and he said at the front in the #1 parking space. So, after wandering around the hallway in my nightie for another couple of minutes it dawned on me about the going out part.
Right. He’s waiting in the truck. For me. So we can go out for supper. Okay. I got it now.
What to wear? I felt all hot and sweaty after all that running around so I put on a tank top and jeans and put hair products in my very wet hair and ran out the door. He asked me if I wanted to go to a fancy restaurant but I told him I wasn’t really dressed for one (that’s for sure!) so he suggested a favourite pizza joint we both like.
It was very crowded and we were waiting for a table when I noticed someone eating at a table nearby who doesn’t like me too much and the feelings are quite mutual. I hid behind my fella after warning him. He was worried about a cat fight or me being so uncomfortable that we should go. I told him not to worry, I have big ovaries and can take it but could he please buy me a glass of wine tonight? Absolutely, he said.
He’s such a nice fella.
So all the tables were full except for one right beside this person and a whole bunch of reserved ones. The owner of the restaurant told us to sit in the reserved section for now until a booth became available. “Don’t you guys leave,” she said. Whew. We sat in the reserved section (getting the stinky eye from THAT table) until a group of volleyball players started to arrive. It was then I noticed how hot my feet were as I listened to my fella regale me with his own restaurant stories. I tried to remember which shoes I put on when, to my horror, I looked down at my feet and saw….
I was wearing my slippers.
I was sitting in a nice restaurant with soaking wet hair, a man’s lumber jacket, no bra and a tank top and wearing my slippers and there is a person 20 feet away who thinks I should be locked up and felt the need to insult and treat me with such disrespect because of my illness I had to block her from my life.
I looked like the stereotypical mental health patient. Just like I thought…
A booth opened up and the owner had us skedaddle over there right away. It was a really busy night.
My fella had me howling with laughter when I confessed to my slipper shuffle. He does that all the time. He said he was going to get me a hospital gown to go with my slippers for next time we go out so I can really look the part. It was then I remembered what I told my worker about the fear I had that people looked at me funny and man…I was laughing so hard. We both were. I had to put a little extra shuffle in my step for the rest of the night and the code word was “slippers” to make me start laughing all over again.
Supper was great. At the end when my fella was paying the bill I asked the owner how her trip to Greece went. She told us that she went there to find all her old boyfriends so she could fuck them since she was too young to do that when she lived there as a young girl. She didn’t find any.
My fella was more shocked by her confession than by my slippers. It just added to the general hilarity and weirdness of the evening.
It was great to get out. It did me a world of good. I’m so looking forward to Thanksgiving with my sister’s family and my group.
I’m also looking forward to working with my mental health worker in the coming months.