frankmask

At ten AM my Alarm went off. I for ten minutes I failed to marshal enough control over my body to get out of bed and turn it off. At ten ten AM my roommate dropped by for his school books and turned the alarm off. I woke up two hours later.

It took me twenty minutes to fight my way out of the fog and find my limbs, another ten to coax them into operation and find my way to the floor, into the shower, under the water. I shaved. I washed my hair. I turned off the water. I found clothes and put them on. I stared at the computer for a while, doing things that weren't important. At some point I went downstairs for a sandwhiche.

I was supposed to go out and look for a job today. The idea, the implication, the possibility, the neccesity of doing this filled me, fills me, with an undirected apprehension that is both vague and crushingly powerful. It overwhelms my ability to think clearly, to act intelligently. I fought a battle to get my shoes on and go out the door to my truck. Driving towards a store that I thought might be hiring I realized that my perception, my ability to notice and react to conditions on the road, is impaired.

My inquiries into available positions were little more than a pretense. My face is difficult to read accurately at the best of times, which makes calling up a neutral expression in the midst of a mood that is decidedly not neutral a simple task. But I can only hold it together long enough to ask for an application, and then I leave.

It's getting worse as time goes by. I'm in therapy, but that takes time, even to get on a footing where progress can be made. In the meantime it's just getting worse and worse, and I'm becoming less and less functional.