I Got A New Phone

​Everyone who knows me knows that getting this phone, this is a knife in a trauma wound experience for me. Because I have technology anxiety.
 
I also have form anxiety which anyone who has ever received a (barely) filled out form from me knows. Like, what are all these questions and little boxes and way too many places for check marks? And I have to write clearly?  And in a tiny space? Seriously… my email will not fit on that line. And who asks for a home phone number?  And every friggin’ thing that the form asks for I can just tell you in like thirty seconds. Um, no. Nope. No forms for me. 
 
So this technology anxiety. 
 
You can’t touch my phone. Or my computer. Even if you are doing it to help me. Help me from afar.
 
And don’t lose patience with me even though am a little (a bit, a lot) bitchy about this whole interaction in this helping me bucket we are in.
 
And move slowly.  Like S.L.O.W.L.Y.  Don’t bounce around my screen if I do let you near it. Which I likely won’t. But if I do, move like a snail. But don’t leave that sticky snail track. Don’t fuck up my phone screen.
 
And don’t move things around.  Or change something. You have to tell me EVERYTHING that you are doing before you do it.
 
Better, don’t touch my phone. Just tell me stuff.  And S.L.O.W.L.Y.   Like talk slowly. 
 
But don’t be condescending. And let me ask questions.  In fact, don’t tell me stuff. Just let me ask questions. Even if they don’t make sense to you. 
 
Better yet, just don’t help me. I’ll figure it out on my own. You’re overwhelming me.  This is your fault.
 
And thanks for helping me.