the mess in my closet is a mess in my head

severe elevation | high elevation | moderate elevation | slight elevation | stable | slight depression | moderate depression | deep depression | severe depression || anx: 0, agit: 0


The plan was to eat an early lunch, take a shower and get dressed, get to the office by one p.m., print some stuff and arrive early and all prepared for my 2:00 meeting. That was the plan. That - or something like it - is always the plan.

But more often than not, it isn't carried out as planned.

And more often then not, the plan gets screwed up by the getting dressed part. Deciding what to wear and wear with what to whichever is a lot more hellish than the grueling task of applying for a U.S. Visa. I don't exaggerate in saying that it frustrates me to tears because nothing in my closet is ever the right article of clothing during a depressive stretch. Especially in the summer when everything is just too uncomfortable to wear.

It's just freaking silly, right? No one would believe me if I said it's as serious as life and death for me. I can't quite explain it clearly to someone who has no idea of how impossible it is - let's just say that it's one of those nasty triggers that are unique to me. i.e., one of those peculiarities that go with my manifestation of psychosis / neurosis / chemical imbalance / disorder / what-have-I. I've been misunderstood for it and been tagged unacceptable, and you can't imagine how it frustrates me that it's been that way since childhood and I still haven't found a way around it.

Of course I've been told thing like i should think about my clothes and prepare them the night before, and so on. But gee whiz, I'm not stupid. I've thought of that already, and it still doesn't help. I would spend hours - literally, hours - the previous day, as early as mid afternoon, thinking of what to wear. I often don't come up with anything when it's time to sleep, and I stay up all night still thinking about it. Needless to say I fall asleep in the morning and wake up at noon; by then I'd be thrown into a panic because I still don't know what to wear. I scrabble around while I throw hissy-fits, holding on to a thin shred of hope that I might still make it on time. I settle for whatever is sufficiently comfortable, speed off and still arrive late. I'd be out of sorts, out of breath and out of time to prepare other things that I need. I'd be fretting of course because I'd be hearing another person complain about my lateness.

And that right there is another vile trigger.

To add insult to injury, people just wouldn't mind their own business when it comes to clothing. If my lateness didn't offend them enough, my not-so-put-together look would. It'd even seem that the time I really need them to lay off is the time they lay it on thick. There's this whole expectation on propriety and such. Bah, humbug.

That pretty much means that the advice to "just wear anything" really doesn't apply. Naturally I've been told that useless grit of advice too. [ "Just wear anything?" Come on. If I really could wear just anything, I'd be wearing big-sized sleep-shirts and flip-flops to everything. If I did, it would be unforgivable, of course, and people won't get off my back for being dressed inappropriately]

It's still a problem even after I go shopping for clothes, and even if [as it would seem to others] I had a bottomless supply of pretty clothing. So really the clothes aren't the problem. It 's really just me.