Before class I have to take a clonazepam (Klonopin) and 2 Ativan just to get in the car. Then I have to take 2 Ativan to walk in the building. Then I have to take 2 Ativan before I present last week’s assignment.
It’s a small class and Andre’s a super nice guy so I don’t know why it makes me so nervous. It really makes me sad that I have to take Ativan before I present. I used to give presentations to 30-50 people at a time when I was in college and I had no drugs then. 12 years later and I can’t even explain a dozen pictures to 6 people. Taking it to get to class makes sense, I’m agoraphobic, but normally once I get to a place (with some exceptions) I’m okay, especially if it’s art related. I’ve explained this before, but my shrink says it’s because I know my role in a place like that, I know my title. I am the artist.
Andre said in class – because one of my classmates is going to be taking pictures of groups of people at his church – that because you’re the photographer, it’s okay to be bossy and tell people what to do. Tell them to squish in closer. Tell them how to pose. I can’t even present my own pictures, how in the hell am I ever going to be able to tell perfect strangers what to do? Is this whole idea of going to school and doing what Thea does just a stupid one? A waste of time and money?
I mean, I’ve talked to Rick about it and next fall is a more realistic timeframe, but I can’t imagine myself driving to the college by myself, for one, and then participating in the class and then presenting my work. I think these classes are bigger than the one I’m in now. This is just out of my scope of comprehension right now.
I didn’t drive to the movies on Sunday so I didn’t drive this week. That’s a bad thing because the less I do it, the harder it’s going to be. In my defense, I didn’t want to get there late because I would do the speed limit and being Sunday there were a lot of cars on the road so I made Blake drive. I don’t know when I’m going to get a chance to drive again when the only places I can drive to right now is Midland, where my shrink is and where the movies are, and Wasaga Beach, where 50s & 60s Diner is. I don’t have enough money to pay for Blake and I to go to 50s & 60s for breakfast (it’s like, over $20 – this is just how much it is to have breakfast not at home in Canada, even at McDonald’s) so there’s no point in going and I don’t want to drive there on a weekend anyway. So I dunno.
I’m just full of anxiety and self-doubt right now. I would really like to do this thing and start having a life but the steps to get there are just so fucking scary. :o(
I think I’m just discouraged because I should be taking less drugs to go to class by now. The MacLaren Art Centre, of all places, should be a safe place. So why isn’t it?
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