I almost cried when my doctor called.

I’m near tears right now, but managing. I had high hopes for a call from my doctor. I had plans of what to say. 45 seconds later, we were saying goodbye and I said nothing. I hate that. I hate…

I’m near tears right now, but managing. I had high hopes for a call from my doctor. I had plans of what to say. 45 seconds later, we were saying goodbye and I said nothing.

I hate that. I hate myself right now.

I accomplished nothing. I didn’t get anything I was going to ask for. Things I need. I froze.

I knew I was doing it and instead of speaking up I just said yes and no and thank you and goodbye.

Some of me was afraid I might be heard through the walls if I explained in detail how bad life is here. I have to be delicate with my landlord.

I was afraid asking for the helpful Adderall prescription might start a conversation where I would have to… Even writing about it is tough. The stigma of amphetamine abuse scares me. I don’t want to be judged that way. I don’t want to feel accused despite it really sincerely being a life changing — life saving medication for me.

Asking.

My weakness. I don’t want to ask for help.

I’m so angry at myself because a phone conversation isn’t where I excel. My defence mechanism is so well trained at survival I laugh and joke and do my best to appear happy and adjusted… Even when the person I’m speaking to is the very person that needs to know I am far from it.

I’m well spoken and sane on the phone. My life long obligation to my golden rule to not inconvenience anyone takes over and I do nothing.

I don’t want to be a bother. I’m ok… Really.

I’m not ok. I’m not ok at all but I can’t share that information with anyone. I hang up the phone knowing full well it took me 6 months to work up the nerve to make that call.

I’m the support guy. The answer guy. I don’t know how to be helpless. I don’t know how to ask for help.

If my doctor called back right now, my anxiety would return and I’d say the same thing. I don’t even know what I need but doing nothing is easier. I have food and a roof. I get yelled at almost daily for something, but I can lay in bed and do nothing without stress.

I coast. It’s a word that appears in my blogs for as far back as I can remember. Contentment over risk. Do nothing and exist instead of doing anything and probably failing. At least coasting only dissapoints me. That’s easy.

Literally a no-brainer

245pm

Time for a nap. I’m exhausted.