I was driving to a temporary job since I am forced to supplement my disability income. This was day 3 and the previous day had been so chaotic I nearly had a panic attack and breakdown. So as I am driving there I suddenly hit an invisible wall deep inside. I have three days of dietary work left with little to no direction and cantankerous, foreign staff barking orders through masks and shields. Myself in same garb and getup, cannot hear through the barrier, adding to the struggle. 

So I hit the CPTSD wall again: cannot do it. Cannot go forward. Leave. Leave. Leave. Flight flight flight. Take care of me if no one else. I turn around and I go home. It is not ever a lie to call in sick. Not for me.

Guilt is still overtaking me. Why can't I just do this. I gritted my teeth did I not? Prayed? Hoped? Needed the supplementary income? 

I have considered roommates, but oh the specific roommates they would have to be. Healthier than I for one, as I have zero wish to be dealing with others with unresolved, unaddressed mental health issues, unless they are very aware and are doing what they can to be healthy. It simply hasn't happened yet, but it may help with the loneliness. I will screen screen screen before I scream. 

My life goal of simply marrying a rich country star and touring with him as his harmony singer has long awaited fruition and fulfilment. Screaming crowds and crowded areas with noise noise noise... two triggers of CPTSD right there. That ought to go well. Or not. 

I just want to work alone in a button factory stamping holes into plain plastic discs and inventing fancier ones on good days. Some days would be rhinestone and cubic zirconium days, glittering embellishments carefully constructed to be attached to dress clothes. Some days it would be back to stamping discs. It just depends on what the demon CPTSD is up to.

I even changed the meaning of the words to say Coping Promises To Sustain Direction. And most days... it does. I can. 

Bailey

A Moodscope member.