I wish my brain worked.
What would it be like to have a functioning brain.
Last night I had put together a friend outing to Buffalo Wild Wings. We gathered talked. Had fun catching up.
But after we’d ordered food. I got nervous. Decided I was gonna step away from the table for a bit.
Ended up walking out of the restaurant. Being anxious around the corner for a while. Thinking I’d go back in. But I didn’t. I couldn’t get myself to go back in. So I texted a friend that I’d pay him back for the food, and left. I had friends text me. I deflected their attempts to help me.
Now I was mad at myself for leaving an event I planned and had looked forward to all weak. I yelled, hit myself, and had small flashes of desire to wreck my car.
I finally got a little less insane, and was embarrassed that I’d just left the group. Sat in my car, trying to get comfortable enough to go back in, then I figured it was too long anyway. Found a Cool diner called the One Man Band to eat at. You order your food via phone from your table. Then I went home.
I hate myself, I hate the way my brain works. I hate being broken.