Several years back now, I had this habit of walking to the 7-11 by my apartment somewhat late at night to get a little snack. I did it like three or four times a week. And it was always the same guy working the register. He seemed to be maybe in his 50s. Maybe a little older. We got to talking a little and I found out that this was just his night job. He would do this all night, sleep for a few hours, and then go work another full-time job. I remember saying that such a schedule seems rough on a brain. He told me he was used to it.
But this one time, the last time I went to that particular convenience store, he looked much more tired than normal. Almost unhinged. I approached the register with the same two items that I always bought and he started loudly and angrily accusing me of theft. There were other people in the store and they were all looking at us.
He said I saw you put something in your shirt. The cameras saw it. I'm going to call the cops. He wouldn't let me pay for my stuff. I took my shirt off. I said call the police. I'll wait. I swear I didn't take anything. Eventually, he let me pay and leave. As I walked out, I said you really need to get some more sleep, Jerry. He seemed shocked that I knew his name. It didn't seem like he recognized me at all.
I've been thinking about that guy a lot this week. As I mentioned, my crazy dependence on frivolous things like food and shelter, plus the nature of the Oklahoma job market, has caused me to split my time between day shifts and night shifts. And in the span of a week, have gone from way underemployed to working 6 days a week. Frequently both a day shift followed by an overnight one.
It's my first week doing this and I hope I adjust or find something else to ensure my survival. But mentally right now, I am feeling unhinged and unsure of everything.
While I was trying to sleep yesterday morning, I got a long message from one of my closest friends. They said they've been wanting to bring this up for years now, but have never known how to do so. They proceeded to vaguely allude to all these ways that I've neglected and hurt them.
God, that's devastating to me. I likely have what is called Scrupulosity OCD, a true obsession with moral perfection. To hear that I've been blindly causing pain for years (for years! For years?) caused such a panic attack that I threw up from it. Or maybe that was the lack of sleep.
I tried to respond in a kind and thoughtful way. But my brain is a haze and I've seemingly just made things worse.
It's all I could think about during my shift last night. It's keeping me from sleeping right now. I have work in just a few hours.
What the fuck am I doing? Why is it so hard to survive? How can I be a good person (an actually good person) when I'm stuck inside this horrible brain?
I pray to the patron saint of caffeine.
I leave an offering at the goddess of reconciliation.
I beg for mercy. Please have mercy on me.
11:21 a.m. - 2023-04-27
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