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.
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