Paranoia strikes deep
Into your life it will creep
It starts when you’re always afraid
Step out of line, the men come and take you away
The words from Buffalo Springfield’s “For What It’s Worth,” (1968) won’t leave my head. They arrived for unknown reasons late yesterday afternoon. Is paranoia a side effect of one of the medicines? I want to think that it is, but at 4:00 this morning, I was up checking because wondering about it was driving me nuts. It doesn’t show up in any of the major meds that I take every day. We’ve been on everything for over a year. I would expect that we’ve seen all the side effects we’re going to see. Yet, I can’t help wondering what’s going on in my head.
Being broke isn’t helping any. My checking account is overdrawn and I need $100 to bring it back or it gets closed. I need the account to be active because the social security deposit goes there. If the account is closed, I don’t get the funds and the situation gets worse. But I can’t ask for help, either. That’s against the rules. If someone just gives me money, that’s okay, but I can’t ask for help. I feel caught in a trap from which I can’t be released.
I hate asking Kat for anything. She’s so good at masking her real feelings I never know what she’s thinking. I fear that at some point soon she’s going to have me committed and I’ll end up in a hospital room or something strapped to a bed, unable to leave. Ever.
Perhaps this fear will go away if I talk about it. Maybe there will be some type of reassurance in today’s mail.
No, I’ve not had any weed.
Trust is something I am missing. I need to know I can trust my care team, my family, my friends. I need to be able to trust that things are getting where they’re supposed to be, and I’m not sure of anything at this point. What have I turned in? What’s missing?
I’m scared.