It's My Blog And I'll Whine If I Want To!!
Since November, I've been faced with one crisis after another. I've tried my best to remain positive and hopeful despite all the difficulties that have come my way. Quite a few times, however, I caught myself whining to my friends and family. After only a few "black parades" I started getting sick of my own moaning. I quickly began to develop some anti-whining strategies. At times I simply changed the subject. At other times, I found some lesson I could learn from my problems to discuss. The best times though, were when I was able to find the humor in the overwhelming volume of pure shit being slung at me. The power of laughing your ass off while bawling your eyes out is truly amazing.
Now, for the first time since it all started, I welcome you to read, "The rest of the story." A story that should probably be titled, "The Time HopeAbounds4Me Almost Forgot His Name."
If you haven't read my profile, I need to explain that I am currently receiving disability benefits due to my Bi-Polar Disorder, and two other diagnoses. With medication, my Bi-Polar Disorder is usually manageable. There are times, however, when I'll cycle into a manic state. When this happens my good judgement flies out the window. I usually get an overwhelming need to put on a diamond and pearl studded tiara, get high, and go on an extravagant shopping spree...Like I'm some kind of exiled, near homeless member of an ancient royal lineage. This, of course, is why the Social Security Administration found it necessary for me to have a payee representative, to help me "monitor" my bank account. Good God, Anyway...
When I received my November checks in the mail from my payee at the time, the lovely, magnanimous Ms. Nancy Baker, (Cough...) She had included a short and sweet letter stating she could no longer be my payee because she was moving to Montana (like some 70's Frank Zappa song). After my disability check was deposited in December, my bank account would be closed. I would be getting a check in the mail for the closing balance. Have a nice day...(Thank you so much Nancy!) Naturally, this triggered my anxiety disorder.
Oh my God! What would I do? Was I about to lose everything I had worked so hard for two years to achieve? Who would I get to be my new payee? Would they understand my need for more and more crystals and books? Would they let me get the second monitor I've dreamed of? Good God! What if I wound up homeless again?
It's actually a wonder I'm not scared to death to check my mail. A week after my wonderful letter from Ms. Montana, I received a letter from my doctor informing me that she had placed the order for my chemotherapy drugs. The drugs would be arriving at my pharmacy in about two weeks; and, I would be starting the treatments the following week. Gulp... I had known it was coming, but now it was a reality, and would be for the next fourty-two weeks. My anxiety reached maximum overdrive triggering a manic episode.
Actually, my memories of November and December are a bit vague and fuzzy. Some things I don't remember at all. I think that's probably a good thing. Thank God I had enough sense to pay November's rent before I grabbed my tiara and tore out the door. I won't go into the bizzare details, but the next thing I knew I was in detox. Dammit...
I've been fighting this thing for years now; and, if there's one thing I've definitely learned it's this: When I finally realize that I've been in an anxiety induced manic state; and I kind of know what the hell is REALLY happening, I have to pick myself up, clean myself off, and get busy trying to salvage and save anything I have left.
That's exactly what I did. I was relatively lucky this time. I did manage to save everything, but I lost yet another piece of my pride. It's been a helluva battle. I guess I should feel good about making it through this shit one more time.
I've faced eviction this month because I didn't get my January check until last week. I honestly think if I were to become homeless again, I'd die this time.
I also didn't think I'd make it through the first weeks of chemotherapy. It was like nothing I've ever had to endure. For days I had to sleep on trash bags because of uncontrollable diarrhea, shaking and sweating with fever. Thank God, once again, my body has adjusted somewhat to the drugs. I still have my bad days but not like at first.
Now, as if I hadn't been through enough, my kitchen sink is clogged, one of my living room windows is broken, and my computer has died the final death. WWWAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!
I don't know if anyone can truly understand what my desktop computer at home means to me. It's my lifeline and main coping strategy. Now, without it, my small apartment is completely void of external stimuli. No TV, no radio, nada... The sounds from the hall, and the sounds of my neighbors in their apartments are all I have to listen to now. I know my anxiety is the cause, but at times, the clatter of life moving on around me, seems to amplify and intensify. It really gets tough sometimes, but I'm making it through it though. I'm hanging on.
But wait! I think I still have an old walkman packed away somewhere. I wonder if I have enough money for batteries? Ahh, this mortal realm...You gotta love it! Enjoy life...