That's a strange word for me now. Happy. It's all gone now. Everything. And been replaced with things like stress, pain, pressure... Good stuff. Since December- the time of my last post for those chronologically challenged- a lot has happened. It's been like a roller coaster ride... No, let me rephrase that- I actually like roller coasters. ... Lemme think a minute.
It's like trying to sit down and catch a little nap in the sun, and all of a sudden it starts raining... Pouring actually. And no matter where you go, it follows you. Oh look, now it's hailing too! Next thing you know, you find yourself stuck at the edge of the cliff, the storm's getting closer. You can either jump, or face the torrential rains that threaten to drown you. You can die one of two ways, and neither will be pleasant. You stay still at the edge of that cliff, trying to reason with yourself: Maybe it will pass, or diminish. Maybe it will get better. It HAS to get better- it just has to.
So you hold out hope on the edge of that little cliff, getting drenched and cold and miserable.
That's where I am right now. Waiting for that final blast of lightning to strike me down.
That's what I got for my happiness. Hell.
I hate it. I can't bear it. I'm simply not strong enough. Everyone around expects me to be this grand pillar of support, but they don't seem to notice the battering ram called life that keeps hitting me full on. And I can't allow myself to crumble, 'cause if the pillar goes, the house will follow. I'm the one tasked with keeping things together, and that includes myself. I can't cry. I can't show much I'm hurting, how close I am to breaking into tiny pieces.
So I smile.
And I joke.
And I laugh.
And I never let on to anyone how I actually feel.
I can't.
But... How long will I be able to handle this, I wonder.
My father has suffered two strokes this year- he's currently in a skilled nursing facility.
Having him gone from the house was extremely beneficial. Things were starting to look up. The tension in the house was dissipating.
And now we're paying for it.
My mother is now stuck with medical bills that we shouldn't have to pay. She's trying to convince Blue Cross or Medicare or SOMEBODY to grant my father more time to recover. They won't listen. I don't think they're actually real people. They don't care... It's sad.
So she turned to Medicade. But we're not eligible for it because we only have Medicare part A. We need part B.
My mother applied for part B.
We were denied.
Why?
Because we enrolled after the enrollment period.
Now what?
Good question.
I can't answer it.
My mother can't answer it.
I hate these damn government programs. They're like Swiss Cheese. Too many loopholes and not enough solid answers.
Now we're under a lot of financial strain. The government will probably take our disability benefits, as well as a good chunk of the pension that we've been surviving on for the past few years. I wonder how much they'll see fit to leave us.
Did you know that a psychiatrist visit doesn't count as mental health, because it wasn't in an institution, and therefor is not covered be Medicare?
This is exactly what I mean.
Bullshit.
Scum-covered Bullshit.
And then there's the matter of my mother. She's on a collision course with the emotional breakdown of the century.
Her only vent?
Me.
Fair?
Hardly.
But it doesn't matter. Taking it in silence is all I can do to help, so I'll keep bearing it, no matter how much I feel like I'm breaking.
Meanwhile, there's my own emotions to deal with.
Sometimes I think life would be easier- cleaner- without emotions.
Let's list the points of instability- for benefit, if nothing else.
- Antidepressants: 3
- Hospital stays: 3
- Major Surgeries: 1
- Pain Medicines: 2
- Depression level: elevated
- Suicidal thoughts: 23 counted. Probably more than that.
- Suicide attempts: 4
- Day of taking mother's emotional beating: 47
- Near breakdowns: At least 20
- Actual breakdowns: 7
- Releases for the stress: 3
My releases are writing and coloring. It used to be talking to my best friend... But he's gone now. Another thing that's been tearing at me. Worry. For him, for my mother, for my mental stability..
Other releases- meditation and music.
I'm entirely lost. Being dragged around and not really caring where to.
I think this is the sort of thing that leads to self destruction.
What a pity.
I used to be so strong and resilient.
Now look at me.
I'm a beaten up, broken down shadow of myself.
And what's worse is that I don't care.
Caring hurts too much.
I wonder if I have high blood pressure...
