I have been in so much pain. I tried to sleep it away. Like maybe if I closed my eyes long enough, my body would forget, my mind would quiet, everything would stop hurting.
But I didnât wake up rested. I woke up to a nightmare.
Someone got into my bank info and spent $200 on Amazon, money I donât have, money I needed, money that was supposed to keep me afloat.
So at 7am, barely holding myself together, I called my bank. Stop payment. Fraud announcement. My voice trying not to shake, while everything inside me was already collapsing.
I am now broke for weeks. Bills wonât be paid. They will be late. There will be no groceries and householdïżŒ needs wonât be fulfilled, much needed medication wonât be bought.
Just silence where stability used to be and now I have to rebuild something I didnât break.
A brand new bank account. Weeks waiting for a new card. Cancel everything tied to my old life. Chase down bills before they punish me. Protect my credit like it hasnât already been threatened enough. Go through what feels like hundreds of things just to fix something I didnât even do. Bills will be late. Now Iâm financially screwed. Broke in a way that feels bigger than money, like something fundamental has been taken from me.
I already felt tremendously bad. Physically ill. My body already at war with itself.
I am scared. I am extremely sick. I am under a &@%# ton of stress, trying to be okay about my massive 50/50 surgery in June, a surgery that might not even happen now. My insurance wonât cover Chicago Northwestern. Out of network. Out of reach. I also still need a Chicago apartment close to the hospital if my surgery even happens.
Iâm on disability. I have Medicare. I have Medicaid. Yet somehow none of that feels like enough to save me. I donât know what Iâm supposed to do with that. I donât know what to do now.
I feel lonely in a way that doesnât make sense on paper because I do have people. So many people. An amazingly loving partner, my love my best friend. My other best friends. But life.
My partner and l, we donât get time together.
Not real time. He works long hours, multiple jobs, mid shifts and when heâs finally here,
life is still demanding something from us.
We donât get to rest. We donât get to breathe. We donât get to just exist together in peace.
I donât ask for help. I feel deep shame if l do.
I donât talk about everything or anything I keep it locked inside me, heavy, sitting in my stomach, because somewhere along the way
I learned what it feels like to be âtoo much.â
Because as a fat woman with chronic illnesses, with disabilities I feel like a burden.
I feel like a burden to my friends and family.
I feel like a burden to my ïżŒpartner. I feel like a burden to the people I love the most. I hate that feeling more than anything.
On top of all of this I was just in the hospital all day this past Saturday the 14th. ïżŒI might need a hysterectomy. I have multiple extremely large, painful uterine fibroids. Gallstones and of course my hernia continues to get bigger and the pain becomes worse.
My body is asking for help in every language it knows how to speak. I am trying so hard to hold my &@%# together. I am not doing well. Not mentally. Not physically. Not in any quiet, hidden part of me.
But I will always be real with you. Even when itâs ugly. Even when itâs heavy. Even when I am falling apart in real time.
I feel selfish for even writing this.
Terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
2087
gummygunk
stormborns
snowghoul
blakekathryn
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