financial ramblings…

I get that my financial issues are my own doing. I know I should have made better decisions and been more responsible, but right now the impact of my poor choices is hitting really hard.

We need a new car (if not 2, since the truck is still having engine issues). We have no savings and terrible credit (though L’s is much better than my own). That leaves us with VERY few choices by way of getting another car. The problem with that is that I need a reliable car to get to and from work, and to and from therapy appointments. Even if I were to quit my current job and try to find something closer, I’d still need to be able to get to Dr C. There really isn’t any affordable public transportation option in this area that would take me from home to her office. I’m NOT open to finding another therapist closer to me. It’s been a challenge to find someone I can work with, and someone who knows what they are doing around trauma. The only other female trauma therapist that has experience, space, and can work with me for more than a few months is actually further away than Dr. C and doesn’t take Medicare… Also, I like and trust Dr. C. I’m not switching…

So now we have to figure out how to get a reliable car that will run for more than a few thousand miles, AND be something we can actually acquire. I wish I hadn’t been so irresponsible with money. I wish I knew how to save (and had a way to make enough money monthly to allow us to save). I wish I had either the funds or the credit to just buy a car without having to worry that it will need major repairs in a few months. We have enough of that with our current cars…

I went looking into how to maybe get a car donated, or find a company that will help us get financing for a reliable car. Unfortunately, we don’t meet any of the criteria (and the waiting lists are several years long!). Family doesn’t have the means to help us out, and even if my family did, the strings attached to a car from my father are way more psychologically costly than not having a car at all…

I dunno… I’m trying not to feel totally hopeless about all this, but it’s really hard…

babbling

I’m drained and tired. I want to cry all the time.

I started a temp job (like, SUPER temp, may be finished by the end of next week) this past Wednesday. It’s cool. It’s an office job. It engages my brain in an academic way. I like it… at the same time though, I feel exhausted. It’s not that many hours a week (last week was 14, next week will be 20-25), but it feels like I have no down time. How in the world did I manage a 40-hour work week in the past? How did I manage those 80-hour weeks I used to do??

I don’t think it’s connected, but I’m also experiencing more body memories again. They started about 2 weeks ago (before I even knew about this job), and they have been getting “louder” slowly. Dr C and I talked more about it last week. I think I miscommunicated though. It was one of those conversations where I was talking about one thing, and she was talking about another, but I didn’t realize it till later so I could not tell her we were talking about different things… While I was working, I was distracted. I could focus on being in the office and learning what it was I had to do there. Now that it’s the weekend, I’m finding I can’t distract as readily. I have a friend coming over later to “play art” and I hope that will help. I have to get my butt in gear first though and clean up enough that we can have a space in which to comfortably “art”… I have yet to move off the couch and try that though.

Another thing that’s kicking my mood to the gutter is our financial situation. This new job should help, but payday is still a ways off. Yesterday we had to drop $300 on one of the cars (we still owe the guy another $100, but he is ok with getting that next week). Wednesday, I had to take one of the snakes to the vet. That cost another $200 that I had to borrow from my brother. I was able to pay him $100 yesterday, but still owe him the other half… he second car also needs work soon. That will be another couple hundred… So that takes care of any “extra” money this job would have brought in (and then some). We were hoping to be able to save a bit, but life never seems to let that happen.

That page I mentioned in the last post is something I keep wanting to continue working on, but it’s also intimidating. I had told Dr. C as much, and we talked about it a bit… The things I feel I “need” to express are all coming out very graphic and disturbing. It’s not anything I want anyone else to see, even Dr. C. It’s certainly not anything I can create in the presence of another human being… I’m actually not even sure I would feel comfortable putting it on paper even if it’s to be covered up. It feels too disturbing to me too… Dr C was cool about it though. She offered to go get collage images for it (though she knew it was images of memories, she offered to look up and procure appropriate images). I don’t think you could find images of this stuff without popping up on the FBI’s radar and subsequently getting arrested… They are not fun images. They are scary and disturbing… guess I’m relegated to creating them myself and then covering over them with a heavy coat of black paint… Maybe Monday I will take the things I need and try to do it in her office… or I will ask if we can set up a longer session so I can do it in a safe place (she promised not to look if I wanted to do it there). Maybe doing it there would be helpful. And maybe I could dig up at least enough courage to show her… maybe… and maybe if it was too disturbing even for me just to create it, we could work on grounding before I left, and talk about the after-effects of doing something like that… I dunno. I dunno why I feel like it needs to be these really graphic and disturbing images. Words just don’t seem “right” for it, and I can’t find an alternate, metaphorical representation that would fit… Maybe the hurt is just too huge to try to “sugar-coat” in any way. I tip-toe around it so much, sometimes it just needs to be expressed as is… Just writing about this, I feel so little… I want to hide among the couch cushions so no one would notice me. Dr. C had mentioned that this might not be the right time to bring up more trauma work, but it’s been bugging me for a few weeks now… Only talking about it more openly with her left the door open and it’s seeping out again. Gotta vacuum it up with the wand and toss it back into the pensieve…

Maybe I can manage a quick nap… just 30 minutes or so? maybe that would help, and I could get on to cleaning up in 10 minutes before my friend gets here. I think we need the taller table to work on, but it currently holds a puzzle… hmm…

doh!

I forgot my new insurance has high copays. Trying to check with the hospital whether or not they can bill me for that. If they can’t, it’s no longer an option. I can’t afford $120-$250 a week for a program (depending on the number of days and level of programming, I’d either be paying $40/day for 3-4 days of IOP or $50/day for 5 days of PHP)… I can barely scrounge even $20 at the end of the month after bills and obligations, forget what it would cost for treatment.

I had hoped the hospital program would call me back today so I could cancel early if it’s going to cost that much, but the lady didn’t return my call. She’s supposed to call tomorrow to confirm my attendance on Monday, so I will ask her then.

On a positive note, L signed the lease for the apartment earlier today. It’s more and more official. I need to start getting moving on packing and paring down our stuff…

 

a day ahead

Ever since Thursday afternoon, I have felt like it should be a day ahead of what it actually is.

Today feels like it should be Sunday…

I’m not totally sure why this is. I’m on pins and needles for Tuesday because I will get money again. I think I feel trapped without any cash. If I had money, I could go to the beach, or hang with friends, or buy food I’ve been craving…

Finances are a huge contributor to my depression…

And if it were Tuesday, I could try again with TM and hopefully settle the misunderstandings I think are going on.

And I could go out to dinner with my friends… I miss having social contact.

identity crisis

It’s come back to me again recently that I have lost my identity with this disability determination.  I used to be a youth worker, a domestic violence counselor, a substance abuse counselor, an educator… now I’m just… nothing.  I know De and L and J would all argue against that, but much like L struggled with work being a huge part of her identity last year, I’m struggling with it now.  I’m not even a good mom to my “kids”, I fail them regularly. It’s underscored with this impending move and all it means.  I have to try to hold a job again when I move back up north.  I have to be productive and live up to all those expectations, but I also have to do it within the bounds of disability.  I can’t afford to screw up.  I can’t afford to lose this determination and then screw up life again.  Finances scare the crap out of me.  Screwing up scares the crap out of me.  I know I have a lot to prove during this time that L and I are apart.  She has her fears about the pressures, and I have mine.  I know I have been doing really well (comparatively) these last few months, but that nagging fear of screwing up is always in the back of my mind (and L’s, and everyone’s…).  When you lose trust from those closest to you, it’s very difficult to build it back.  When you lose trust in yourself, it’s just as hard.  I know I tell L that everything will be fine (and for the most part I believe it), but there’s that little voice in my head that says I will never be a real human being.  I will never get through struggles in life without major meltdowns. I will never be “safe” from myself… I know these are only doubts, but I need to give voice to them.  I can’t carry them all alone right now.  I saw De today, but I was too busy trying to avoid tears and fear to acknowledge any of this.  Now that things have slowed (I’m just sitting watching TV with L), my head is filling with all the things I’ve been frantically pushing away (and then some).

I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know what I’m good at.  I have no way to make money or to help alleviate the pressure on L.  I have no useful skills.  De was trying to get me to come up with some way to structure my days, but even that instills trepidation.  I don’t want to commit to volunteering because I don’t think I can keep up with the gas commitment even if I can manage to keep my emotions in check to allow me to go in every day.  Everything is far here, everything requires driving, which requires money, which I don’t have.  Hobbies require money. Hanging with friends requires money (and friends)…  All of this I don’t have.  So whatever.  I have to suck it up and just deal with crap.  I have to ignore it, or breathe through it, or something.  Back to running through the fog trying to avoid all the road blocks.

 

take 2 of take 3

I had a post all written out, then I accidentally got rid of it by reloading the page when all I meant to do was add a picture… oops…

I don’t really feel like re-writing it, so I will just upload the picture.  It’s the third take on my picture for De.  April is coming up fast, and I want to get this piece in to her.  I just have to finish the arms of the adult, and the pieces she is picking up… I was going to have a background originally, but I don’t want to push my luck with the piece.  When I’m finished with this one, I will put up all three versions (all different in a few ways) and explain the different meanings.

Last session, De had described this house as screaming (with memories of the past, and flashbacks…)  I added that it literally screams with anger most days.  I really connected with her description, and I wanted to record that… It had been better-written in the first version of this post, but like I said, I’m not in the mood to write all that out again.  Things are all churning in my head, but I am not sure how to communicate what that really means.  The past is screaming at me.  The house is screaming.  My fears of what the future will be like are screaming, and it’s all very loud right now.  I’m trying to work it out through art, within myself, and figure out how to process things with De.  It’s all just a jumble right now.  Hopelessness is sneaking back in, but I am not supposed to indulge it.  I’m a bit at a loss with how that is accomplished, but I’m trying.  L and I both have a lot of stressors brewing, but I feel like I can’t talk about mine because I feel like I only ever talk in circles about it (and because I don’t really know all of what it is). It has kept me from writing much, from reaching out, and from communicating.  It’s really difficult to communicate when you have no idea what you are trying to say.  I know a lot has to do with finances.  Some has to do with work (or lack there-of), G coming down in 2 days for a 7 day stay (please shoot me?), and my judgements/fears/hopelessness around having to utilize disability… Part of me really wants to say I’m good to go back to work right now, but there’s the doubt yelling loudly.  It tells me that things will never be ok for me, I will never again be able to hold down a job, I will be worthless and useless the rest of my life.  It whispers my failures over and over again.  It points out how things always go wrong shortly after they go right… It beckons me to throw up my hands, curl into a little ball, and fade from life…  I just wish I hadn’t ruined life for so many people. I’m sorry…

I think it’s time to go to bed (not that there’s much relief there. I die in my dreams just about every night.  Sometimes multiple times a night.  ugh).  Anyway, I’m shutting up.  Sorry if you actually read this far.  It was rather a poor post…

ever just zone-out on your t?

Friday’s session was weird. I felt like I was being lectured by my mom again, so i just tuned De out and smiled & nodded when she asked what I thought about what she said. I just didn’t feel like I needed it from her too. I wasn’t quite able to figure all that out until just now, but I know while she was talking I stopped listening deliberately (not in a dissociative way).
I already feel like crap about being on disability, I don’t need to feel like crap about making myself feel like crap. She was saying that I let myself get lost in the philosophical stuff and not enjoy the moment even when the moment’s good. I know i do that to a degree, but I also feel pretty strongly that sometimes depression is just depression and no amount of thinking positive helps it. I felt like she was just telling me how lazy I am and how I want to feel depressed all the time. They were not the words she used, but it’s the message that came across.
Just the day before with J we had talked about L’s resentment over me not working, and how I feel equally bad about not being productive. Then De manages to make the topic about finding things to be productive with, and not being such a loser (again, not her words, but what i heard). I dunno. It has me back to having my defenses up and not wanting to talk to her about anything.
I think I’m also wearing thin on this holiday b.s. and trying to keep things positive and happy when L is having such a hard time. I just wish I could help make it better for her. I hate feeling so helpless and useless. At least if I had a job, i could get extra hours enough to fly her home for the holiday. I know that would at least ease some of her sadness. But I can’t do that. I only get a check once a month, and while it’s really good, it’s not good enough to get her home. Another year gone by. We were supposed to be back up North by now. We were supposed to have our shit together by now. Things were supposed to be different…

I’m sure this is the line of thought De meant when she droned on and on about getting lost in the negative. Sometimes you have to get lost there though, to be able to figure out how to move forward. She had also said something about just making a decision to move forward from the past without having to necessarily processes it first. I wish I could do that, but it hasn’t worked out all that well so far… when I told her my doubts about voicing my experiences to her, all I really wanted to hear was that it will get better. Instead, I got lectured about allowing myself to feel shitty and not moving on fast enough. Some days I feel like I can’t win, even when I think I finally find support. Maybe mom was right all along: you can’t trust anyone else to help you out, there’s only you. (L may be the only exception to that rule, and I really hope I don’t mess that up with my stupidity).

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I did not realize this only saved as a draft last night, I had meant to publish it.

On another note: earlier today, a blog I follow had a new post for the first time in almost a year.  Strangely enough, I related to it quite well… Dr. Doyle talked about how sometimes clients go into a particular session talking about “little picture” stuff just to get through it so they can again focus on the “big picture” topics of therapy. He also talked about being able to tell your T to “stop” when things are being misunderstood or when we simply need to be heard and not necessarily re-directed.  I think that was more of what was going on for me on Friday with De, only I am not at a place within myself to be able to tell her simply to “stop” when she’s droning on… It’s coincidental that he posted this today, as I was planning on talking to De about all this on Tuesday.  I have yet to get to a point where I can tell her in-the-moment what I need or want, but we are working towards that.