Symptom

My fat is a symptom of my loss of safety.  My binge-eating is a symptom of my chronic emptiness.  My scars are a symptom of my inability to regulate my self-hatred and extreme emotions.  My anxiety is a symptom of my fear of both the known and unknown.  My nightmares are a symptom of the abuse and terror I have experienced.

I am lost and I am shattered, but I am not over.

The fact that I am still alive is a symptom of my strength and hope that I can still get better.

— ♥ — ♥ —

read how others interpreted the daily prompt

Bad Day

Trigger warning: This post is going to be very dark and discuss things that may cause distress, like suicidal ideation.  Please be safe.

 

★  ★  ★  ★  ★  ★  ★  ★  ★  ★

 

So the other morning I went to pick up some prescriptions and found out I’m in the coverage gap.  That means that from now until I reach the catastrophic stage, I have to pay for my prescriptions completely out of pocket.  There’s no way I can afford that; my psych meds alone are hundreds of dollars, let alone my diabetes meds like insulin.

So on Monday I panicked.  On Tuesday, on the advice of a very sweet friend, I created a gofundme page.  I felt a little bit better (still panicked though, lol).

But today … well, today is a different kettle of fish.  Today my mind is telling me that this is the universe telling me to let go; to stop worrying about the meds and … drift off.  That this is a sign my time is done, and why bother anyway when I haven’t accomplished a damn thing in my life?  I’m worthless, I’m weak, I shouldn’t be saved.  I’m fighting a real battle with myself and I don’t know what to do.  If I did just let go, I would need to find a home for Sam and Lucy first, because Mom wouldn’t be able to take care of them after I’m gone.  And even typing that brought tears to my eyes because I love them so much and I don’t want to leave them (or her).  I just want these dark thoughts to stop.  When I saw my psychiatrist, she added another medication because my suicidal thoughts have been so prevalent.  Which is ironic now because it’s one more medication I have to try to pay for, which is leading me to more thoughts of suicide.  Funny, huh?  (Okay, maybe not.)

No one needs to call the squad; I’m not actively doing anything to kill myself today.  I’m still fighting and trying to hold on to hope.  But at this moment, it’s more difficult than usual and I’m wishing I could close my eyes and … be nothing.

I hate the US’s insurance system.  I hate that you can have insurance and still not get the care you need.  I hate that my psych dr. has told me she can’t get me all the way “there”; without therapy, full recovery is unlikely (which again, insurance doesn’t cover enough for me to afford a therapist).  Maybe if I take a nap I’ll feel better.  I didn’t sleep well last night and that always plays hell with my emotional state.  Maybe I’ll curl up with Sam and Lucy and let them comfort me.  Times like this, I’m so glad I never had children.  My furkids deserve better, let alone if I’d brought a child into my hell.

If you’re still reading this, thank you.  If you didn’t, I understand.

♥  ♥  ♥

Lucky

It isn’t often that I refer to myself as “lucky,” but today I am.  Mom wanted to feed her coffee habit and I was splurging and having a root beer, so we grabbed Sam and decided to go to Steak ‘n Shake which isn’t even four miles from our house.  But those four miles turned out to be perilous today.  As I was driving along, actually doing the speed limit (go me!) and navigating the holiday traffic, out of the corner my eye I saw a car coming straight at us and the only thing I could do because of their speed was swerve as much as possible.  The problem with that was the oncoming traffic in the area I was trying to swerve.  We got t-boned pretty good so the car is a mess but the most important thing was that Mom was okay, and Sam was okay, and it could have been so much worse.  Mom said that if I hadn’t reacted so quickly and swerved as much as I did, her door would have been directly hit, and it might have been a completely different story.  The other driver and I pulled over and I’m ashamed to say that it was so scary I broke down, especially when I saw the door on Mom and Sam’s side.  I can’t express or explain how I felt when I saw the damage where my family was sitting and thought about how close the other car came to hitting them.  I just cried and cried and held Sam close.

So today I feel so lucky and blessed and grateful that no one got hurt seriously and that Sam seems to be okay.  I’m going to keep an eye on him the next few days and if he acts weird at all, I’m taking him to the vet.  The other driver admitted full responsibility and got a citation, so now we have to get in contact with his insurance and get our car fixed.  But that part, as annoying and inconvenient as it is, is nothing compared to the thought of losing my mom and my dog.

I don’t know where, or even if, I stand on religion but I did find myself whispering in my head, “Thank you for protecting them.”  I don’t know who I was talking to, but I think that’s a question for another day.  I just want to snuggle up with Sam and be grateful for what I have.

Three Months Later

My instinct is to apologize for having been away from my blog for so long, but with the things that I’ve been trying to handle, I think you all would understand.

First I got pneumonia — I think it was the fifth time I’ve had it in my life.  As a kid, I had a lot of respiratory problems and was at the doctor practically every week.  It isn’t any more fun now than it was back then.  At least back then I got coloring books and chocolate Frostys (or is it “frosties”? not sure how to pluralize “Frosty”).  Sometimes being an adult really sucks.

Then … I don’t want to talk about this a lot or go into details, so I’m going to bare bones it: I was raped.  I’ve been trying to just forget it, move on, push forward; whatever phrase you want to use.  I completely withdrew and have been spending a lot of time in bed cuddling with Sam and Lucy and my stuffed animals.  Mom let me get an alarm system so I’m feeling a little bit safer, but the PTSD is strong right now; a lot stronger than I or my coping mechanisms are.  But I’m trying my hardest to recover and that’s all I want to say about that.

I did take a few photos the other day, so I’m hoping to get those up and get back to posting regularly.  I do apologize for not being there for all of you.  I hope you can forgive me.

As long as I’m breathing, there’s hope.  Right?

♥ ♥