Things aren't always what they seem.

I may look confident, secure, at ease, relaxed...but how you see me is exactly the opposite of the real me.

I just started training to be a tech in the ICU and am learning things I never thought I'd want to know, but I'm doing it and feeling nervous and anxious as I fumble through my skills. I know I can do it, I know I'll be good, but my stomach right now trembles as I sit in class and my mind tricks me into feeling like I can't do it, and it scares me and it makes me sick to my stomach.

But the reality of it is that I already did a job very similar to this and I was great at it and I impressed everyone, so why am I so skittish about this?

I think it's because for the first time since I was homeless, I see that maybe there is a grand prize. One of hope and success, and I guess it's hard for me to understand that maybe I'm out of the hole I dug for myself long ago, and maybe, hey, not maybe, really, I'm in a good place in life. I am not a drug addict, I have a job, which I like and a new one that I'm sure I'll be good at., I have a great man, the best relationship[p I've ever had, I have the most beautiful good boy of a dog who I love with all my heart, my moms good, all is goods...and I guess looking at it like that makes me see that I can now maybe finally relax...

PART 2

it came quite clearly, but I was stoned and forgot what I was thinking.

I need to be positive, I need to be strong.

I talk about all the bullshit I've been through, well, ok, that's good, but its over now, and you are definitely not the man you used to be.

you are a good man, like it or not.

people like me, I'm compassionate, I'm empathetic and I'm smart.

I can do this job.

I will be great, in fact.

I just need to realize what an amazing man I am...

but I should know it because my man wouldn't pick a piece of shit of a guy so...

He has made my life so great, I cannot even explain.

best friend I ever had, and an asshole that holds me in a mesmerizing stare...

I am lucky.

in the end it kinda all works out for the best

 my mind is the most terrible thing I waste.

all day long, intermittently, I get feelings that are so great and so overwhelming, that they put me in that instantly, into panic. Panic that gets extreme and gets manic to where I have to stop and take a look to make sure I'm okay.

this is my mind playing tricks on me. telling me I'm not enough or that I did or said something wrong. it plays and replays a million times in my mind until I have to stop and breath and say, what a fool I am for feeling this way. it's embarrassing to tell others of the point in my head. it come out of nowhere and it sends chills to the tips of my toes.

what I remember is why'd I do what I did?

I was perfectly happy having not smoked in a while, but my my after a job interview panic went through me and I desperately needed something to calm me down. so there's a guy at the deli by my house who sells Lucy's, so I asked my driver to drop me off there. the whole time in the car I'm friending to the point that I already have my one dollar out and clenched between my index and middle finger, tapping till the car stops and I run out. I give the guy my dollar and ask for a Lucy and a book of matches and hand the dollar over even though I should get a quarter back, but I'm in a hurry.  as soon as I get out of the store the butt is in my mouth and the match is being sent through the air to touch the tip, which when lit, I inhale like it's pot and release an exhale that only a moan from the soul can do. the next few puffs aren't as good and by the third puff I am completely disgusted with myself. I bend down as I step and shove the rest of the cigarette into the snow, so there's no going back. and then I get home, still anxious, still unsure.  as I walk in here comes Zeb, and I think taking him out for a walk and clearing my head would be best, so I grab his leash and my gloves, and out we go. once Zeb is leashed up I grab my phone, wanting to call Keith and tell him how I think I fucked up my interview, but I stop and rethink and decide to call Anthony, my TBI guy who's been a tremendous friend through the years. I tell him how good it went and say I think it went well, then stating  again for reinforcement, I hope it went well, he assures me with telling me he's proud of me, which makes me smile as I hang up the phone.  

so after the walk I ran to the liquor cabinet and poured myself a shot of vodka, knowing well in advance that this would make me more anxious but I did it anyway. I had to juice my own mixer from 3 tangerines, in my shaking hands did I do. lol.

you know sometimes when I look back I can laugh at myself, otherwise it's simply terrifying.

anyway, here I am, in my head I think I have a fabulous tale of a boy whose so unsure, and a future that lies ahead.

im scared, im happy, im proud of myself because im even at this place.but im scared and im nervous and I simply don't know, until I hear.

I wish I could just understand and then control what the fuck goes on in my head. I never had anxiety like this before, or did I? I don't honestly remember.

and P.S.

I got the job.