So… I’m a writer… and an artist (kind of) and a bit of a photographer. And I’m not sure if all of these things make me out of my effing mind, or because I am out of my effing mind, I can really love all of these things. But I do and they really help me when I have to wind down from anything that freaks me the fuck out. I love bugs too, but we can talk about that another time.
Things that freak me the fuck out:
- Groups of people.
- Spontaneous plans.
- A sudden change of plans.
- Spontaneous plans that involve a group of clowns. *shudders*
And yes, being a writer, I kind of have to be around people because I write about people (unless I write a book of personification, but I personify my cat – and no one wants to read about that… trust me) and the silly, dumb, ridiculous, obnoxious things they do.
But the people thing is iffy for me… iffy because it is touch and go. I can be in a group of people if I have notice. The more notice the better, but I need at least 24 hours (gotta sleep on it). I need this notice – this warning – because I need to store up a lot of energy and play out every ‘worst case scenario’ in my brain, mentally react to it and then file it away, and then re-react to a scenario I didn’t plan the worst about on my way to the event.
Sometimes, it is so bad: I have actually driven by at least three or four gas stations until settling on one with no more than two or three cars in the lot/at the pump:
My truck: Yo. I need gas.
Me: I know, I know… but…
My truck: There’s one, a gas station.
Me: But… too many people. We’ll find another one.
Truck: You’re ridiculous!
Me: *heavy sigh* I know… thanks for putting up with me.
Ok, so clearly I personify more than my cat… but yeah, that’s a moment of a day in the life of afflicted me.
Before (like, a really really long time ago – almost 10 years!) I used to just get shit-faced drunk and then I could be around people (unless I was snorting cocaine – in which case, I couldn’t be around people) and who the hell knows how that turned out. I was so drunk (frequently) that I’m assuming now (100% sober) that I was cool around people because I’m still alive and never went to jail. And I absolutely should have went to jail at least two times. Okay… maybe four times.
But again, it was always iffy. If you get it, you’ll get it. And if you don’t get it, you probably never ever will. Ever. That’s something else I’ve learned. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him put on pajamas.
And, now I feel as though I am becoming condescending so I’ll see you around…