I Wish (LJ)

I wish that this "blood feud" that everyone claims isn't happening would quit already, every time I see one of my cousins I have to resist the urge to tear their mother's face off for doing what she has to the family.

On a lighter note, I did go to church yesterday, the sermon was on "How to treat people." And it was something I need to listen to again (and wish my Aunt would get through her head) So I ordered a tape of it.

The Depakote is working I think, but mainly because I spend the good 12 hours of my day sleeping so far. After my panic attack/near nervous breakdown at work last week I called my Pdoc. He put me on the Depakote (was that Tuesday?) Anyhow. On Thursday I am not feeling a lot better but I make it to my second class, but towards the end I feel like an elephant is sitting on me and I HAVE to get out (Maybe that was Wed.) I do make it all through my class but it's really hard and I drive madly to work. That's when it was so hard for me to be with people I started to cry as I stared miserably at the Poinsettias I was supposed to zone.

On Thursday morning after 1500mg of Depakote I feel... strange. I keep hearing my cell phone ringing even when it's not, but this concerns me less than when I have to go into Home Depot. I stay in the car for 20 mins trying to work up the ability to just go in and buy the turpentine I need for my painting class.

I do go in, find the paint aisle and am instantly distracted by the paint swatches. They are so pretty, I feel like crying. One whole panel of them actually seems to move as the colors variegate and I stare at it until I get so dizzy I have to stumble off. I call my best friend and she knows how close I am to throwing myself on the ground, screaming and sobbing and giggling. She keeps shushing me and promising it will be okay.

I giggle and panic and cry down three aisles, my language alternately being babyish and full of swear words, until I get turpentine, a drop cloth and a new empty paint can for class. To avoid touching, seeing or talking to anymore humans, I check myself out, then, trying not to make anyone see me, slink out and run to my car.

The rest of the day deteriorates. I do not go to my Psych class, the next day under the sleepiness I get with the Depakote, I skip my Math class and new Speech class.

I also feel as if no one believes me when I say I feel like I'm unraveling. Like with enough drugs and moral support and pulling myself up by my bootstraps I will be "normal" again and won't that be peachy?

HA! If it were that simple I would be cured, happy and well on my way to making millions with my new book "Flush your Lithium, Sunshine is all you need."

Also, one of the secretaries sounds REALLY scary on the phone. Her name is Vera and she said "Why do you want so much time off." Want, need, desire, must have... All different things. I was really polite but I wanted to shout "BECAUSE IF I THOUGHT I COULD GO BACK TO WORK WITHOUT HAVING A PANIC ATTACK OR KILLING A BITCHY DEMANDING CUSTOMER I WOOOOOOOULD!!" I need the crappy $7.00 an hour job and the thought of losing it because I'm losing it is scary.

Also, when I was hired I was hired (as in I agreed to take the job because of this promise) as a FRAMER. They train you fully and I was looking forward to it. Instead they put me in floral as a "floor girl" You basically clean, zone, put out stock and answer ten thousand annoying questions. Also, in my INTERVIEW, I said I didn't need or want to get hired as a cashier. Harry reassured me MORE than once that don't worry, you'll never have to go on register.

Well, he lied. Now I'd like to ask Harry this: "Since I was hired to be a framer and ended up in floral, and we both agreed to not put me on register, I'd like to be a craft demo instructor and/or a class teacher."

That would put me in the class room 2 nights a week maybe and doing demos on the weekend I'd have 4 hours a day. I don't want to be jobless but I CANNOT work as a cashier anymore. The stress, the pressure to get 20 people through your line in five minutes, always having a customer wanting you to bend the rules and when you say no, them getting angry. FES' who always forget you exist so they forget to give you your break. Stupid rules like "You can't use quantity key unless you have 50+ of something" and the incredulous/angry look on most customers faces when you try to tell them it's company policy that you have to ring 35 sheets of scrapbook paper separately because if you don't you'll get in trouble. No. Nononononononono I cannot abide it.

*sigh* I know I need more help, I know I need a job. I KNOW! But people make me hurt, they make me itch. My regular doctor said she wouldn't help me get disability because work gives one a sense of accomplishment (or something) I don't want disability just to sit on my butt to do nothing. I don't want to go nuts either. I'd rather be on disability and have some money to give to my parents who so graciously let me live with them, and finish school with no pressure (Like for weeks I've had no homework time because I go straight to work and don't get home until 10:30 or 11:00) and do my art, then try to do all of it and crack apart like a fissured mug.

Okay. Enough talking. The Depakote is knocking me out and I've had to press the delete key waaaaaaay more than I usually do...