Tomorrow is the big grand day. I start work bright and early in the morning at eight. I am so very, very nervous, but I am not feeling that terrible anxiety today as I normally would on such an occasion. I am actually feeling very, very good today mentally and it is so nice for a change. Mental Illnesses are so funny as in weird. You never know what each day may bring. Maybe that is a good sign – a good omen. Maybe I will go to work tomorrow and stun and dazzle them with my ability to do a good job without agonizing and debilitating anxiety attacks and crazy mental shit. I don’t want to embarrass myself on the first day of work with my mental illnesses. My biggest fear is having a big enough anxiety attack where I have to leave work and go sit in the quiet of my air conditioned car for an hour until it passes. How could I ever explain that to my supervisor?
The little details are going to be the hardest for me. Not drinking at night. Working in the mornings and dad coming at night is going to extremely curtail my drinking for those of you worried about it. It will leave me with little opportunity to imbibe in old John Barleycorn as my schedule will not allow it. Eating a good and nourishing breakfast every morning so I have the energy to work. Getting into the regular schedule of working. Being steady and reliable. Taking a shower every morning despite being in a hurry and keeping nice clothes at the ready. Setting my alarm clock so as not to be late. Sleeping at night so I am well rested for work instead of staying up listening to my favorite radio show. Remembering to bring lots of bottled water as the heat will be oppressive. It is going to take planning and that is not my forte. These are all things they would be teaching me in vocational rehabilitation over several months and I am bypassing that. I am jumping directly into the fray. These are things I am going to have to relearn after not working for so long. I am going to have to relearn a work ethic as well. Eight years is a long time to have a completely open schedule with which what to do with your day is up in the air. I am tired of that, though. I’ve wandered through life enough these days. I want schedules and routines – something for which to get out of the bed in the morning. I’ve seen enough of the Internet, blogs and TV to last a lifetime over the past eight years.
They showed me yesterday what I will be doing. It was as I had expected. I won’t have to deal with customers which will be a boon for my social anxieties. I will be gathering the carts with this little battery powered contraption that pushes them. It comes replete with this bright little yellow light that blinks to warn motorists. I will bring the carts inside through a large opening in the building and ready them for the elderly greeter to pass out to incoming customers. The guy that currently has my job said he is going to work at McDonald’s in a few days for better pay. We talked awhile. He said the job can be physically taxing at times getting all the carts together for the pusher. He said the supervisor is cool though. He also exclaimed how hot is was in the summer out in the parking lot, but you know me and I love the heat. “You will fry,” he said with me being so white. “Bring plenty of sunscreen for your face and neck, and wear long sleeves, pants, and a hat.” He is going to show me the ropes tomorrow so the morning should prove easy being coached along. I hope the four hours fly by so I can get home to write about it for which I will be very excited to tell you all about it.
I am scared – very scared. I am going to have to hide this from my father unfortunately. He just wouldn’t understand. Luckily, I work in the mornings and I only see dad at night around ten for thirty minutes. I hate the subterfuge and should just be honest about it, but then again, I have to be able to make choices about my own life for a change without having to ask for permission. I so want to work and be partly self supporting. I am tired of sitting around this house all day with nothing to do. I think it will be so crucial to my self esteem that has been so lacking for years. I really have felt like the dregs of society lately not being able to support myself and earn money. It is demeaning my parents having to do everything for me. No 38 year old man should be in the position I am in with regards to dependency on their aging parents.
There is also so many things I want to buy as well after not having money for years. I only get nice things at Christmas. I want to upgrade my computer. A new DSLR camera would be nice as that is my favored hobby these days. I would love an iPod Touch or an iPhone. Just being able to buy extra food when I need it would be a windfall – to drive down to Sarah Jay’s eatery and eat breakfast would be a joy most mornings. There have been some weeks lately that I have run out of food and it is so demeaning to ask for more. It will get mom and dad in such an extreme stir. They make me feel like crap for asking and not being frugal with my food. I just get hungry sometimes. I am a big guy and $85 dollars a week in groceries it proving not enough.
I am going to give it my very best try tomorrow and see how I do. I have two Klonopin to take before work for the anxiety. This is my trial by fire after not working for eight years. My supervisor assured me I would be able to handle the job since I walk miles every day as I told her. She was being really supportive. I think she could sense my apprehension and fear. I was really nervous yesterday and about couldn’t sign all the paperwork from jittery fingers and hands. I also feel like I am doing something very terrible and wrong. I guess I am as far as my father is concerned. He will eventually find out for sure. It will be World War Three no doubt. I am a grown man, though, and should be able to make some decisions for myself and my life. Surely, you all can’t begrudge me for wanting to go back to work? Can you? Can you at least try and see my point of view?