The Road to Therapy

Forrest Gump said, "Stupid is as stupid does." which was a great retelling of his mama's quote. They always called him stupid, so he needed that comeback line. I call myself stupid when I have a month as bad as the May that we just finished. May 2023 was definitely on the top ten list of stupidest months I've ever done. Yikes, I had forgotten I could be that stupid.

Why? What happened in May? Oy ve, that's what happened. Yikes, oy ve, and double ugh. OMG, I'm still here? That's a miracle! Thank God it's June today.

Last month in May, I decided to embrace with full passion a case of the fuck-its so wildly that I had some incredible highs and horrible lows. I took my money and instead of being my typical responsible self, I decided to throw caution and honor to the wind. I did not pay my minimum monthly payments on my debts. Instead I took most of the money and blew it on gas to go on a great adventure. Or so I thought it would be.

My plan was to go to Orlando first and spend a day at the waterpark. That plan fell to pieces when I got there and saw that I was in the movie Tron which I was totally not prepared for with my dinosaur flip phone. I left speedily, onward to Daytona Beach with a hope that swimming in the Atlantic would make up for that disappointment.

Once in Daytona, I noticed how lovely the town is, and the beach still welcomes cars to drive right onto the sand. I got stuck in a patch of sand before I even reached the beach and some kind chivalrous man helped pull me out while I smiled gratefully like a damsel in distress. Once I realized that I could not find access to the water, the beach, I decided to head up I-95 to see if I could go back to Virginia Beach which was the next East Coast beach that I could recall had access for walking people, not just hotel stayers. They have a bus system in Virginia Beach. They have a bus system in Clearwater, too, but I just don't really care for the Baywatch look of the West Coast Florida beaches. I'm not the barbie doll type.

So I drove and then I ended up in a small town called Hardeeville in South Carolina. There was a state park with some small waterways and I decided to camp there. That was the best part of the trip. Two beautiful days camping in my tents in the woods. Truly lovely. I even stole a morning swim at the nearby Hampton hotel where no one noticed me and the water was so lovely and refreshing.

A storm and a few other strange signs told me I couldn't stay there for the month of May as I had hoped, so I had to pack up my van for safety reasons and keep heading somewhere, so I kept on the track to Virginia.

Made it to Virginia Beach and went to verify if my uncle had really passed away three years ago, and it was verified. I asked if that housing building could help me with housing, but you have to be 62 years old to qualify and I'm still 10 years too young for that application. I drove off to the beach and found some parking a few blocks away. I walked unto the beach and for awhile felt somewhat successful that I had accomplished the access as I had promised myself. But there was no safe way to go swimming because I did not have a trusted swim buddy to watch my car keys and purse while I went body surfing. So I just sat on the sand, watched the sun set chatting with a beautiful black girl (younger than me) and we watched three young men body surf. I was jealous of them because I wanted to go swimming so badly.

Knowing that the last time I had been in Virginia I had to leave because I was homeless, I didn't want to overstay and run out of whatever money I had left to make the drive "home" to Florida. At least I know the roads and resources in Florida so even if I complain of the heat and high costs of living, at least I can usually find my way around. So I headed back. It was a long and tedious drive back and I felt sad, angry, and defeated most of the way knowing that I could not really make more of my "vacation" due to my limited funds and lack of map knowledge or high technology info. I tried to enjoy coffee, loud radio music, and the wind blowing through the open windows on the highway.

I gave a quick ride to a highway walker --- looked just like a black Neegan --- totally hot ---- and I told him that I didn't know what the fuck I was doing so I couldn't make any promises at that moment, but he shared a lovely kiss and gave me an approving look. That made me feel like a million dollars.

I made it back to Florida, and I was so extremely exhausted that by the time I parked my van, if you can call it "parked" I was ready to commit suicide, literally. I had no money, no gas, no energy, no hope, and was just completely and utterly spent in every form of the word spent.

I was dehydrated, hungry, tired, and hopeless, a dangerous mix. I needed serious and immediate attention. Not wasting my time or breath on non caring or non believing ears. So I sliced my arm up pretty good to make sure the blood would pour and I walked into the nearby convenience store to ask for the police help. They came to collect me to take me to the nuthouse which was really a Godsend. I tried to abandon my identity, but the cops already knew me so there was no way to become someone else. Oh well.

Then I spent the middle of May (two weeks) in the nuthouse where they drugged me to make sure I overcame insomnia and psychosis, and where the highlight of the time there is good food and flirting with the other mental patients. I flirted it to the max and even got to steal a kiss from Cala, a beautiful patient who said she had been there for a long, long time.

Then I was released and my husband came to pick me up in his shiny new red Chevy Truck. He was looking good and being very kind and I couldn't help but be grateful. I was glad to be released, and worked the next few days at getting my medications. He worked his job as he typically does, and tried to check on me and help me however he could. Kindness was definitely exchanged even if I am still in flirtation with the world mode.

The last week of May has been pathetically difficult as we were both extremely broke, no money and I was counting change for a pack of smokes. We made it to June and today was a big celebration day that May is over and I survived the epitome of my stupidity. I won't do that again.