Road to destruction pt. 3

Posted: 3/30/2008 at 12:52 PM

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Now the agoraphobia has become a problem. I can't even go for a cup of coffee with my friends. I have one old friend who has stuck around, the rest have written me off. The problem is the one who has stuck around comes with strings attached. Larry cares for me in a way that I don't care for him. But, we've been best friends for about 9 years and he knows how I feel. He's always there to get me out of a pinch, and it makes me feel guilty. I won't give in, even though friends and family have told me that he would be the perfect boyfriend. I know that I'd be taking advantage and would in the end hurt him even more. So, I sit alone in my apartment. Larry comes by for a little while when he gets off work. Some days I welcome this, often not. I like talking to him on the phone, many of his mannerisms annoy me in person. Then I start to make some friends, or rather acquaintances in the apartment building. They don't mind coming to my apartment to visit and have no problem with the fact that I can't make it upstairs to theirs. At this point just going to get the mail makes my heart race.Another Big Mistake Obviously I'm improperly medicated at this time. People with Bi Polar Illness make horrible decisions. I made a doozy. Larry came over one night, and I don't know what came over him, and why I didn't stop it. I went to hug him good bye, he kind of pushed me towards the sofa and well, you can figure out the rest. Presto! I have the boyfriend I never wanted. A good part was I could borrow money from him and not feel as guilty because well (and this sounds insanely mercenary) I was sleeping with him. And all of the other things he had been doing for me (car repair, fixing things around the house that I couldn't etc.) no longer racked me with guilt. What did make me feel guilty was that I didn't grow to love him as everyone said I would. I just didn't. This went on for over a year so he'll come into this story again. I had nothing to do. I couldn't work. First, it would mean leaving the house. So, I thought I'd try another MA program, an online one this time. A few years prior I had started a MA of Library Science. I have my AA in library science, worked in libraries in my early 20's and cataloged in rare book stores for about 5 years. I went in with this idealized view even though I knew most of the reality. I had been working in the library as they took the card catalogs away (my bookstore boss and I tried very hard to come up with away to make money out those catalogs! (Recipe holders?). I was not prepared for what I found. My first class was computer programming. I don't remember the next classes I took, but I couldn't write for them. It was a different style that I couldn't conquer. Maybe it was because I had become to hate the topic. All I wanted to do was sit at a desk with a bun in my hair and help people find the perfect book. Yes, I knew that was a pipe dream, but I wasn't going to get anything close to that. I dropped out about half way through. I tried a MA in education through Phoenix (might as well, already was a teacher). I lasted one semester. First - they didn't tell me the program was for people who need their credential as well as a MA, so it was covering things I had already done and didn't belong in that program. Second - If I have to write one more essay on classroom management I will throw the computer through the window. Next, have no idea where this plan came from, I thought I could eventually get a good job in Human Resources somewhere if I got my MBA. I went to Walden University. I've never taken a business class in my life. After we were given our first assignment, I read it, read it to Larry, read it to myself again. It was like it was written in a foreign language. Well, OK so this wasn't for me. Eventually I did find a program, but that was a year away, the one I'm in now. More about that later. So, what else did I do with my time? I let miscreants come "visit" me. I had so few friends now I was over appreciative of anyone who would come over. The people who I met from my apartment complex were not the sort of people I should have let in. Here is an example. At the best times I am considered messy. When ill, you have to make a path through the junk on the floor to make it to the next room. I learned (I always knew people did this, but just learned I could) I could pay someone to clean for me. I paid one of my neighbors to clean my apartment for me. She did a very good job. Then I realized a bottle of Codeine (almost full) I had from the car accident was missing as well as a necklace. I didn't confront her, I don't do confrontation.It was disgusting, but I kept telling myself "well at least they're my friends." Friends, who came to my apartment to do drug deals, steal what they could quickly grab while I was out of the room and who new when my checks came in and could ask to borrow money. They would run errands for me, since I couldn't leave the house. Were always there to clean (of course I was paying them). Eventually I cut back on their numbers. But, until the day I moved, I never knew what I still owned. So, I'm sure you're wondering A. why was Larry letting this happen? B. What was happening with my meds and the doctor? Well, Larry didn't really know. Everyone came over during the day; I made sure they were all gone by the time he was going to be there. Ah, the Dr., we tried a few more meds without much luck. In order to go see him it was a production because I had to find someone to take me. The anxiety attacks were so awful; it had gotten to the point where I was getting the band around my chest feeling. Eventually, I quit going. I was doing what I swore I wouldn't do; not just to myself but my old Dr. I was off my meds.And now the fun begins. Watch out EBay!

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Road to destruction pt. 3

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