Pressure in the Fields
There is no hope hat anyone else will understand this if I can’t explain it absolutely clearly. They probably still won’t, but I have to try.
I got fired from my beet harvest truck At least they took the truck away and gave it to a more experienced driver. But what I saw in myself is pretty spooky. When I get confused or pressured or under stress, it’s like the different “packets of information” in my brain are so separate from one another that they can’t be put into the same “thought” for consideration. Like when the harvester reached the end of the field and I didn’t know what to do next, and the driver held up his hand palm toward me, my brain said that was a “goodbye” when really he meant for me to stop the truck. I had already been told that the drivers will flash their lights when the truck is full, but I didn’t remember that part. I only had the one part, the goodbye part, in my head when I needed to remember the light flashing part and at least look at the two ideas next to one another and be able to make an informed decision. So I went to the piler to dump a half full load, which made them very angry at me.
And when the harvester took off across the field I got scared and panicked because I didn’t know where he was going in the pitch blackness, or if he was going to another field, or if my truck was full, or if I was supposed to follow. And my brain locks up in confusion. It’s not something other adults are prepared to deal with, and I can’t even recognize it myself or know how to deal with it, or how to make other choices. It gets me in trouble, and I guess makes it so I can’t “function” in the “normal” world. I need something special.
I just wrote my sister that I need to probably head to the women’s shelter in Amarillo, and from there will be able to access some mental health help. I don’t think I can do this alone. I can’t take the house in Lubbock and get a job and be a regular person right now. I am too fragmented, too vulnerable and too fragile.