Honestly, I was convinced that I had written my last entry other than a goodbye. I had made so many mistakes over such a short period of time that I was horrified. To make a sports metaphor, I was the player so trapped in my own head that I couldn't act. Instead of second guessing myself after the fact, I was doing so in advance. Don't write anything you might regret, John. Keep your mouth shut and no one will get hurt. I hope I don't come to bat in the bottom of the ninth inning with the bases loaded and two outs. Let it be the other guy. If he fails, I'll pat him on the back and compliment his courage.
What did I do to trigger these feelings? I'm still working on that to some extent. I can tell you this much. I am still hampered by wounds both old and relatively new. One of the worst things I did involved trying to manage limiting my grief at the passage of time. As much as I've written about accepting the fact that I will likely never be "big B better" again, I never accepted the fact that I will never be 25 again. There was this strange hope in me that the only thing keeping me from picking right up where I left off at 25 is the fact that I'm so sick. If only medicine could make one or two advances, I could have my life back just the way it was. Maybe that was true in 2001-2002 but it is not true now.
Things spiraled badly for me. All of the contracting is done but I have not finished paying the bill. I had believed that the bill was astronomically high so I decided to prioritize my homeowners' insurance. The homeowners' insurance was paid weeks ago and it won't be due for another little while. (I know the exact date but that's the sort of information one does not online.) Stamping "paid" on that was important for keeping my stress levels down since it was my first ever direct payment to them. Now, I'm stressing over paying the contractor despite the fact that he hasn't done anything to inflict stress on me. It's just an honor thing for now.
My mind locked down from accumulated stress a few weeks ago to the point where I failed to act decisively when I ran out of medication. Which medication was it? The irony police might come knock down my door soon because it was my anti-anxiety medication. It's okay if you just laughed out loud. In fact, I kinda hope you did because it beats getting the urge to throttle me. My doctors made a minor mistake by forgetting to prescribe a new 90 day supply of the stuff but I compounded the error by not reacting to it in a positive way. I've been getting the proverbial smacks upside the head from people because they know the ways I could have reacted better. There are resources at my disposal at need but my siege mentality gets in the way.
The amazing thing about my friends is the way some of them are there for me when I need them no matter what mistakes I made. An entire section about the costs of mistreating people was going to go here but it doesn't apply. A week ago, I thought I had alienated two very important friends to a hopeless degree. One of them contacted me a few days ago letting me off the hook and the other did so while I was writing this. The end result is that I'm sitting here back on my meds after another good night of sleep in bed and I am feeling blessed.
Let me give that thought its own paragraph. I have gone from feeling awful due to my own mistakes and being trapped in my own head to feeling as healthy as I get. I am back on the medication that I was out of and I expect even more improvement from that as it works its way back into my system. I had a good night's sleep in bed after a time of exhaustion. I feel like a movie character who has been through something terrible only to end up in a wonderful place. I'll go further. I feel like the fallen angel played by Nicolas Cage in "City of Angels" a short time after he shows up at Meg Ryan's door. Yes, I am aware that the Meg Ryan character dies of stupidity in the next scene but I trust Melissa's common sense despite the way I reacted in the car on the way home last night. It was over texting in the car but she hadn't done anything stupid. It had everything to do with the fact that I hadn't taken any anti-anxiety meds in ten days.
All I need to make this entry fit into the blog theme is to draw the overly obvious conclusion. I'm not sure how bad the Spanish grammar is but, as the kids might say, "Panic is muy no bueno."
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