Dear Roger: Ignore The Blood On The Floor, Ill Be Okay

I have an appointment today that I would much rather not keep, but since the wonderful state of Arizona managed to lose all the supporting records for my umm ahem...history? regarding my issues with knives, razors, large men holding me by the throat, crowds, my tendency to react violently when Im approached in what I perceive to be an aggressive manner by a man, my insomnia and my other fun little glitches, I have to go and meet with a person who will evaluate how well or(not) I have been doing at getting over these issues. They are also going to evaluate my suitability for various career fields. How they do this is by making me dredge up all the fun things that made me the fun person I am today. I get to relive all the wonderful experiences that I had over my life for this person, discuss with them how or how they dont affect me any longer and then I get to walk out of that office, get back on a bus and come home and try to shove all that stuff back into the storage locker in my head that I had it locked in so carefully. It promises to be a fun day.

I sat up quite late last night debating how to even get to the office. Should I take the bus or the train? Should I leave early? Should I take the route that has the most walking? What if I am late? I dont have enough money for the later fare on the train if it runs past 6 hours. I just wish I could blow it off, but if I want to get into a different schooling program, I have to cooperate. I did not sleep well last night, so I am pretty jangled this morning. I have chewed my nails to the nubs and the sides of my fingers are looking like I need to be sure to carry my guitar pick with me so I quit worrying them to death. The kids know I am tense and they are just letting me be this morning so I can stew and think about things. I charged my ipod last night, dug out my 100 Monkeys hoodie,(my erstwhile security blanket) and I have changed clothes 3 times. I dont like talking about some things. I am pretty open about most of it, but these people have a way of getting under my skin and making me admit things that are hard to admit. Its weird for a former cop to admit that they wanted to kill someone. Its weird to say those words and to know that you meant them. Discussing the "Feelings" about things are the worst. I have some far from much of that. I socialize, I talk to men, I enjoy their company in limited and controlled amounts, I get out and go visit different places, but I want to put the past behind me and keep moving forward , but meetings like this keep dragging me back into the morass that was misery and it is showing this morning.