*When Crying Isn’t Enough*

I’m so, so tired. Lack of sleep due to anxiety, to fretting, has me pretty much toast this morning, and I simply must go to my IOP class from 9 – 12. It’ll be all I can do to stay awake during most of it because now I’m starting to feel like maybe I can get some sleep… you know, now that I need to be up and around and getting going with my day.

As I’ve mentioned here ad nauseum, I just do not sleep well… never have, really, even as a kid. Granted, way back then I was almost always on alert for whenever someone would stealthily come into my room for things no child should ever have to experience. It wasn’t every night, maybe not even really often; but it was enough that I was always on guard, always scared, always wondering if “it” was going to happen again. I have so much of that time in my life blocked from my memory (and a lot of the rest of my life so far, too) that it is probably a blessing. But when something or someone “scratches the wound” and I begin to have flashbacks, flash memories, night terrors — you get the idea — I have an extra difficult time of it because I’m still learning how to process those images, those feelings, that cell memory one has when one has endured the shit I’ve had to deal with. And I’m not even getting close to mentioning the stuff that I actually brought upon myself over the years that has caused me so much grief and anxiety, still to this day, and almost each and every day.

It’s scary here, in my head. And I fear I’m spiraling down again, either due to a shirt in my bipolar-ness or just because I’m overwhelmed with the slaps in the teeth I keep getting week after week.

As I’ve mentioned here recently I have taken a huge financial hit because the clinic is no longer willing to continue the agreement we had together that they would cover my electric bill so that I could have the funds available to pay for things which I have to pay for out of pocket, things such as Weight Watchers, the acupuncture I was going to be starting and have now had to cancel… you get the idea. The reason I was given is that the electric bill has just been too high, as if I’ve been purposely running it up all the time and taking advantage of them. Granted, January’s bill was pretty high. But we also had many, many days in the low-20s, my place has a lot of drafting from the windows, and I had the flu for a couple of weeks. So yes, I kept the heater on… not up high, just on.

Besides, the real reason, I feel, for all of the sudden having different modes of assistance dropped is because my clinic has opened another office (geared more toward the general public, not just a specialty, HIV clinic as mine is), and has also sort of taken over the women’s health services here in town. All of that must be costing an amazing amount of money to get up and running. I’m not stupid. When the announcements were made about the new clinic and the “merging” with the women’s group I knew I was going to have to give up a lot of the help I’ve been given.

And trust me… I’m so very grateful to have had the help that I have had. I’ve never taken it for granted; never intentionally kept high any costs the clinic has covered. I have had nothing but gratitude for any and all assistance I’ve received. To have those taken away unceremoniously, and at a huge financial cost to me, well overshadows any gratitude, though. I was already fucked, having to give up WW and other stuff because I now have to take back paying for the electric bill. Add to that the fact that my apartment complex is in the process of tranferring the sewer/water bills to the tenant’s responsibility. Until the start of my most-current lease, the only utility I had to pay for was electric (and as we have seen, I’ve had some help with that so I could do things out-of-pocket; now I’ve got a water bill on top of the electric, and even though I don’t flush the toilet as often (“If it’s yellow, let it mellow; if it’s brown, flush it down.”) and I’ve cut back to showering maybe every other day unless I have to be out and about, the first bill for 20 days was almost $50. Being in the desert means water is expensive, of course.

I’ve also been dealing with getting the clinic to catch up their payments for my insurances (medicare supp; vision; dental; additional life; etc.) which had fallen behind last year, causing my coverage to once again be dropped. I’ve gotten it reinstated and given the total amount due to the woman at the clinic who handles this stuff. She got back with me that my letter explaining the amount due and all of the information I was given from my benefits department will not be good enough; that she needs something from BofA indicating all of the information I gave her. Okay, I get it… she can’t just take my word for it. But, the other part of her message informed me that, from now on, they will only be paying for my medicare supplement; I will from now on be responsible for the premiums for dental, vision, supp life, etc., a cost to me, unanticipated, of about $40 more per month on top of the total electric bill and the new water/sewer bill. (Plus I have to come up with about $100 to bring that part of the insurance premiums current or I’ll be dropped yet again). And I have to give up certain things I was doing or going to be doing which were and would have helped my physical and emotional self to get better and better. Now, not only will I not be able to take advantage of these healthier things, I’ll not even be able to have $20 or $30 extra a month to go for gas or other expenses. My grocery budget, such as it is, is going to have to be slashed even more than it has already been.

Lots of tears have been shed over the past several days and for a little bit of time there I was really concerned as to what exactly my actions, my plans of attack were shaping up to be. Although I didn’t act on it, I can honestly say here that suicide has been a serious contemplation. I AM NOT SUICIDAL NOW. Let’s get that straight so that I don’t have cops showing up at my door again for a “welfare check,” nor the guys in the white coats coming to take me away, either. I’m not going to off myself. But how could I have not considered it, even if only in passing, because of all of this shit? I know so many other people have it so much worse. I just wonder when I’m going to stop being punished, for whatever reason I have been so far.

So, well… today is not starting off well due to the lack of sleep, which I mentioned way at the beginning of this long-wided entry. I plan on going to the class, which I missed yesterday, but don’t want to try to be a participant for three hours, don’t want to “share” my feelings or do tai chi or whatever the fuck it is we’re starting today. I don’t want the be asked all kinds of invasive questions or anything, either. I just don’t wa

nt to sit in a group setting, trying to fake being a part of it, even though I’ve gotten so much from the program already.

When I get home I have to sit down and type up a few letters to a few different medical places (including my own fucking clinic), asking them to resubmit bills I have received which I normally don’t have to pay because they are covered by my Medicare supplement. These bills were submitted after the fucking bank dropped my insurance, and unless I can get them re-submitted I’m looking at a couple thousand dollars for which I’m responsible.

No wonder I’m crying, now, and wanting to just run away. I want to hide, to again stay in my apartment, away from the rest of the world. Can you blame me?