My totally sweet life: Part 2*

*Cautionary note: If I were you, I would not read this particular post. The author suffers from severe clinical depression and at the moment is feeling quite morose, bitter, and self-abusive as a result of the day's events. He is using this blog to capture his current thoughts to later examine them in a better light. This post is being written for posterity and therapeutic purposes and is not meant to entertain or lightly "fill you in" on the author's day or present state of mind. To be quite honest, it will probably make for very awkward and uncomfortable reading and you will come away with nothing positive. This warning is written with the utmost sincerity.

* * *

So today was the perfect capper for a perfectly shitty week. Since I couldn't run with my normal crew this week, I had to work with another manager who works out of N. Gwinnett and Forsyth Counties. Normally this would not have been a problem and would have actually been a good thing, since his material is generally better than our own. However, we were working Suwanee and I was stuck working neighborhoods that were predominantly Asian. I don't fucking speak Asian, and as such could not sell anything and made no money this week. To make matters worse, my normal crew was working gravy and everyone was making all kinds of commission. In two weeks when they all bring in $500-900 paychecks, I will be getting a fat $150. Literally. And it couldn't have come at a worse time; I'm desperately going to need that money in two weeks to pay rent and survive. As it is, rent is not going to get paid. So thanks to my fucking boss, who after bitching about how I was gonna screw up his paycheck, totally screwed mine in return.

The brakes on my truck are completely shot. Last week they started squealing really bad to let me know to take them in to get fixed. But I didn't have the money for that last week and figured I could stretch it out a while until I could afford it. This week they started to grind . . . bad. But what the fuck can I do!? I have to drive to work, to probation meetings, to the doctor. I can't fix them, but I can't not drive either. And now after today, I've probably turned a $100 job into a $500 job. I certainly fucked up my truck majorly driving to and from Atlanta today. Just barely tapping the brake pedal set my truck and I to cringing. The sound of metal-on-metal grinding has been so loud that people were staring at me and I didn't think I would be able to stop in time in some occurences. Driving around was surely dangerous today, and I fucking killed my vehicle.

Why did I have to drive to Atlanta? I had therapy at 11 in the morning that I had to go to. I haven't been since December. I went the one time and thought I was cured. Yeah right. It took me a couple of months but I was back being depressed by mid-March. I made an appointment to go a couple of months ago, but I woke up feeling depressed and worthless and just didn't go. So I definitely wanted to go today. I've been looking forward to it all week; I even bought a depression workbook to work through and change my thinking when I'm down. I knew today was going to be a busy day; I was having lunch with Annie at 1pm after therapy. I woke up real early, made sure I had directions to Annie's work, ran to my friend's house to feed his dog, and left with plenty of time to make it to the Gwinnett health care clinic. I even factored in that I couldn't speed since I'm driving illegally to make sure I gave myself extra time.

At quarter 'til 11 I was still a little ways away but confident that I could make it despite the unexpected traffic and construction on 316 that I ran into. But it had been so long since I had been to the clinic that I was a little unsure of the correct exit. I got off where I thought it was and instantly realized that I had made the wrong decision. 5 minutes left. I backtrack and get off at Riverside instead. That's not right either. Oh shit, where the fuck is it? I know I'm close. I'm starting to freak out. I call the clinic to let them know I'm running late and I'm lost. The receptionist gives me some directions but by this time it's over. It's eight past 11 and I'm going through the same traffic I was just in and I realize I'll never make it in time for any kind of meeting and I start to get upset and I start to cry and I start to hyperventilate and have a panic attack. All the while, I'm trying to navigate my way through traffic, trying not to get in an accident, trying not to get pulled over and go to jail, trying to brake as gently as possible because my brakes are through with the squeaking and squealing shit and now it's just grind, Grind, GRIND. I'm a 23-year old grown man crying in broad daylight, in public, because he is late for a doctor's appointment. I fall into depression and my mind starts to race with all sorts of half-cocked conclusions and self-judgements.

My stream of consciousness ends up looking something like this: Fuck! I can't believe this is happening - I'm so angry that this is happening to me - Why did I let this happen to me? - This isn't happening to you, you caused it to happen - You're an idiot for letting this happen - You should have looked up directions for the clinic, you knew you weren't sure which way to go - You're a loser - You should have called while you were driving; that would have been pretty easy - Only a fucking moron, an idiot, a fucking loser like you would have let this happen - You did this to yourself you fucking loser - People hate you - The reason people don't like you is because you are a piece of shit - You brought this all on yourself - I hate myself - No one likes you, they think you are a fucking loser and this is why - Who cares what other people think, the only thing that matters is that you know what a piece of shit you are - No one will ever love you - Who would love you? - No one can ever love you because of this - You will always be alone.

And so I am left drained, driving away towards Marietta and Annie, completey missing my therapy session because of my mini-anxiety attack. The whole time I was right there but I couldn't get enough of a grip to make it. I had been so out-of-sorts when I talked to the receptionist that I couldn't mentally process what she had been telling me and I ended up going the wrong way when I was almost on top of the place. So now I've missed the last two meetings and I have to pay for those sessions that I got nothing out of. Money I don't have to blow.

I ending up making it to Annie's work and we went out for lunch and had a lot of fun. I started to feel better and it was the best part of my day by far. But this is about the bad stuff.

The rest of the day was just small stuff and little mental rants against myself, nothing quite like as intense as my breakdown this morning.

- I wrote 0 sales at work and made no money whatsoever when I sorely need it. Awesome.

- My dad called me last night to see how I was doing. I didn't answer and he left a message. Do I dare call him back and tell him about how I fucked up another vehicle? And if I ask him for money to fix it, which is my only option for getting the money anytime soon, how bad is that gonna fuck up things between more? "Hi Dad, it's me Timmie. You remember, the absolute fucking wastebasket of shame that you call your son? I'm 23 and I still can't function on my own." And I also have to tell him about how I quit school again for the third and final time. I now owe the US government about $5000 for the 0.0 credit hours I obtained this school year. Yippee.

- I found out I have to go pay an old solicitor's ticket next Wednesday. The AJC is paying for the $131 ticket but I have to drive to Gwinnett Co. to pay it. How will I get out there without a vehicle? And if I don't make it, they will issue a bench warrant, which will in turn red-flag my probation, and I will go to jail. I will have to go to court again for breaking probation after I paid most of my fines and just finished my community service and my DUI school. I'll probably have to do more hours and pay more fines and I'll be on probation for another two years instead of getting off in December. I'm already panicking thinking about this.

- We were in the gas station after work, and the new girl told me she was sorry I didn't make any money this week. I told her it was just more evidence for why my life sucked. The woman in front of us in line turned around and gave me a look like I had just admitted that I was planning on slitting my wrists tomorrow.

- DUI school starts at 9am. I have to be there at 8:30am. Since my truck is dead, I have to walk the 3 miles to get there. Can't wait.

My overall feelings right now:

I still feel depressed but I'm beginning to feel better. After going back over my earlier thoughts to write this blog, I realize how stupid and irrational my thinking was on the way to therapy. The fact of the matter is that I missed it and that sucks, but it was no reason to go the obligatory 12 rounds of mental fist-a-cuffs with myself. I realize that I am in a pickle with my truck, but I think I can find a way out of it if I slow down, breathe, and think it through. I will find a way to not go to jail on Wednesday. Writing all of this down has helped me to deal with the feelings and take them one at a time, rather than tackling everything at once. I feel better about my situation and not so, "It's over. You might as well be dead." However, I don't feel all that good or great, and I don't think I should be entitled to feel good. I have fucked up by not taking care of the brakes sooner and by not doing as well this week at work as I should have. I'm laying too much blame elsewhere and I need to take some responsibility. Overall, I think I can work through this week.

Positives to take away from today:

- I had a good time with Annie and we had fun at lunch. Everyone does not hate me or think I am a loser obviously.

- I will finish DUI school this weekend, which is a big step towards putting a lot of my problems behind me.

- My only real obstacle that is preventing me from digging myself from out of a financial hole is fixing my truck. If I can overcome that I will be almost homefree.

- I am sitting here writing about a shitty, depressing day in my blog. I could have given up, bought some alcohol, and just holed up in my room getting drunk and feeling sorry for myself. I could have had a "who cares" attitude and blown off DUI school, making a bigger problem for myself. Instead I have used this opportunity to examine my thoughts and try to constructively avoid this kind of situation next time.

* * *

Seriously, did you just read all of that? Dude, I feel for you; it took me about 2 hours to write. I'm sure you spent double that slogging through all the drama and self-abuse. I'm sure you think I am crazy, and I'm okay with that. A lot of times I think I'm a little crazy myself. I apologize if you were bored or weirded out or whatever while you read it. I really am. I wish I could write about humorous and happy things all the time, but sometimes I need to put down what I feel. I'm glad you read my blog and I hope you won't stop because of a few depressing posts, but I have to admit that I write this primarily for me. It does help me feel better and I can't afford to censor myself or pull my punches just to save you or I a little embarrassment. But I can assure you that most of my posts won't be of this nature and I'll always leave a cautionary note for the ones I do write. So feel free to skip 'em and just read the entertaining stuff. Unless this is entertaining for you, in which case you should probably get yourself checked out.

The Dunce-cap Marvel