So, what else did I do with my time? I let miscreants come “visit” me. I had so few friends now I was over appreciative of anyone who would come over. The people who I met from my apartment complex were not the sort of people I should have let in.
Here is an example. In good times I am considered messy. When ill, you have to make a path through the junk on the floor to make it to the next room. I learned (I always knew people did this, but just learned that it applied to me) I could pay someone to clean for me. I paid one of my neighbors to clean my apartment for me. She did a very good job. Then I realized a bottle of Codeine (almost full) I had from the car accident was missing as well as a necklace. I didn’t confront her, I don’t do confrontation.
It was disgusting, but I kept telling myself “well at least they’re my friends.” Friends, who came to my apartment to do drug deals, steal what they could quickly grab while I was out of the room and who new when my checks came in and could ask to borrow money. They would run errands for me, since I couldn’t leave the house. Were always there to clean (of course I was paying them). Eventually I cut back on their numbers. But, until the day I moved, I never knew what I still owned.
So, I’m sure you’re wondering A. why was Larry letting this happen? B. What was happening with my meds and the doctor? Well, Larry didn’t really know. Everyone came over during the day; I made sure they were all gone by the time he was going to be there. Ah, the Dr., we tried a few more meds without much luck. In order to go see him it was a production because I had to find someone to take me. The anxiety attacks were so awful; it had gotten to the point where I was getting the band around my chest feeling. Eventually, I quit going. I was doing what I swore I wouldn’t do; not just to myself but my old Dr. I was off my meds.
And now the fun begins. Watch out EBay! (actually a reoccurring theme in my life!)