Enjoy The Weather, Simon

I guess I'm pretty happy right now. Or, I should say, circumstances are pleasant at the moment. I'm at the Fat Straw sipping my usual strawberry green tea with green apple jellies. The weather is nice, which is good because I pretty much begged for a sunny day today. My back and arm pain wouldn't withstand the weight of my laptop, but that's okay because this place has computers for use. I have a few bucks to spend because I sold an old computer I don't use anymore and my GTA games, which make me too nauseous to play. I don't have any responsibilities for the day. I slept in until 1:30PM. I might go catch a movie later, which I've been wanting to do for a while.

So what's with all this fucking dread?

My stomach knots at the idea of having to go back to the shelter. At some point I'll need to. I need to tell my caseworker about overnights at least a day in advance. Even if I had the okay, I can't think of any place I could spend the night.
I guess that's it. I've slept in that poison pit every night since January 5th. No breaks. I don't have full control over my activities, that's part of living there. I don't have control. One misstep could get me kicked out or into a worse situation. It's a little like living at home, and I hate it. They keep telling me, "You're an adult. You're here to be self-sufficient." But who the hell can feel like a self-sufficient adult when they need to get a piece of paper signed to verify all of their activities and ask for permission to spend a night or a weekend away? Who can feel like they have control over themselves when even a shadow of suspicion can get their piss inspected? I feel like I keep running for the horizon but walls keep appearing in front of me and I'm too focused on my activities to stop before I crash into them.
Part of me wants to blame the PTSD and be done with it. The other part is aware enough to know that this situation would piss off a lot of people, PTSD'd or not. My anger is building up again and I feel like I'm at the adult version of boarding school.
Oh right, this is my happy blog. So I'll do a little reminder: It's only temporary. This will only last as long as it needs to, and then I can move out and start my life properly. In a matter of months, I'll be on my own and there won't be anyone around to make me feel like a delinquent teenager. For the first time in my life, I know it's possible, even though it doesn't always feel that way. (I haven't been here for the longest time and the same music still plays. What the hell.) "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." But my, they try hard, don't they?