Call this the worst day since I got out of prison. Call it the first time I had thoughts of doing myself in to get out of what was either "IndyGo Hell" or "Bad Karma for Me."
The front desk and me started feuding just after lunch about me using the computer room, again. I wanted to work on the "The Masque of the Red Death" and get my phone reupped. I got a few more pages done on the play but got nowhere on re-upping the phone. I came backdown to the front door at 1:50 pm and was told to go back up for another 5 minutes. I had my resume with me then. I came back without the resume but did not notice this till I was out the door and hundred feet from the halfway house. I go back in, got a lecture about returning before the pass's return date, and had to be patted down. I missed the bus by about the same amount of time.
The bus I got didn't get me close to where I was supposed to go. I got stuck in a downpour as I walked towards my appointment. I was now late for the interview. I kept walking a few miles. Soaked to the bone. .I never found the Staples. I missed three buses. I ran after one bus - all 240 pounds of me was running down 86th Street chasing a bus. I was beginning to think about throwing myself under a bus. Or hanging myself - it seemed I was trapped in a self-contained hell and I wanted out. I decided against suicide. If one bus driver had not gotten me to the right bus line, I do not know if I would ever made it back to the halfway house. As it was I came back 42 minutes late, still date from the downpour and very, very tired,
To make matters even worse, I found out - after my return to the halfway house- I been going north when I should have been going south. I feel like I should be the dictionary's illustration of mortification.
I hate my life. I think I am too institutionalized to be let outside alone. I definitely need medications of a psychiatric sort. Back to Dancing School.
But I did finish typing my adaptation of Poe's "Masque of the Red Death."
And I got to hear Warren Zevon.
There are some small compensations to existence.
Sammy, what you went thru re: Staples is what life is all about. I get terribly frustrated when things go awry, but I try to remember that if everything went smoothly what's the point of it all. Every time I'm in a shitty sitch I just add it to the 'cost' of living. Re: feeling institutionalized - that's a natural feeling for someone's been down 10 years. I was down a much shorter time and still felt that way, tho I'm sure to a lesser degree. That'll wear down over time. Getting a foothold in the world, i.e., a job and apt, will go a long way to helping you get past that feeling. Keeping contact with people is max, so to one extent halfway house serves a function. Once you're cut loose, it would be helpful to establish a routine, esp a routine that involves other people. Even if that means volunteering at a soup kitchen. Sorry if I sound like I'm preaching. Always here when you need me.
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