bizarre

I spent every day going from one catastrophe to the next disaster, cleaning up messes, getting screamed at, doing every single role in the store ALONE for 3/4th of a day because there was never enough labor allocated for me to have help, constantly checking over what little help I did have because previous managers beat them into learned helplessness, getting called in every day off, you get the idea.. All while making shit for money. I was "good" at it. (Give me a break. Never strive to be "good" at managing. It's a fucking joke.)

Anyway, I thought something must be wrong with me. Here I am, high on the ladder, and I couldn't be more miserable. I can't climb back down or I won't be able to pay my bills. I see the ladder continue on above me but it seems worse. More responsibility. More people to look over. More disasters. More more more all the time. It chipped away at my psyche until I was miserable and bitter. I hated customers, coworkers, upper management, myself. Everything was terrible.

I switch locations. Switch companies. Desperate to change something but it's not happening. Everywhere is the same. Kitchens and retail are all the same. I have to get out.

I decide to apply for every single thing. I don't care about the wage, or the position, or the industry, or qualifications. Everyone got my resume.

You know who called me back? A greenhouse a few towns over. The guy who owns it doesn't mind that I don't have experience. He's willing to teach me everything - from potting to light secretary work and a tentative 'maybe more, later'. It's a steady schedule - same time everyday. You other mentally unwell folks know exactly why I'm thrilled about that. I'm already sold and then he slaps on a $2p/hr more to seal the deal.

I quit immediately. I don't even wait an hour after finishing paperwork to text "I quit" to my supervisors.

At the greenhouse, I feel a little out of place. It's completely a new experience and the people around me are so different. It's exciting! I'm determined to fit in. The work is exhausting and requires so much activity. I got a little bit sunburnt, I'll admit. But I feel at ease, for once in a long time. It's refreshing. And working hard out in the sunshine feels good and right. It's sits well in my soul. Maybe I was meant to be a farmer, way far away from spoiled customers and the modern speedy lifestyle. It reminds me of that theory that autistic people never seemed so obvious before because they were in environments where they were stable and without an overload of stress.

I have my prescriptions on autoorder every 90 days, but I like to be thorough and call when I'm running out anyway. So I called and ordered, verified all my payment info and address - the works. As I always do! - and they tell me it's ordered. It rarely takes longer than a week but with everything going on, I call 2 weeks early.

It doesn't show up after one. Okay, running late. Doesn't show up after two. I'm about to run out! But surely it'll be any day now. Let me call anyway. Nothing. They didn't put the order through. "I'm about to run out." It's extra to have it rush delivered. "You going to drop the charge? Discount it? No? Fine. Rush it here."

Here I am, nearly a week off meds. Withdrawals are so bad I can't barely sit up, much less actually stand. I've slept maybe 5 hours total over 3 days. Obviously, I can't go to work. But the light is at the end of the tunnel! It's supposed to be here tomorrow. Thank the gods.

I get an email.

>Your prescription order was just put in. Shipping label says 5 days.

Now?? 5 MORE days? I'm sobbing. I hurt so bad. I'm so tired. I tell my dad. He calls and yells at them. How long am I supposed to be off of my antipsychotics because the pharmacy won't put the prescription in? "You can order rush shipping." FUCK YOU PRESCRIPTION POSTAL.

My boss says "go to publix and get it..."

I can't 'go to publix to get it'. My insurance won't let me get it from anywhere except prescription postal.

"That doesn't make sense."

No shit, sherlock.

"You should have your medicine."