45 & Homeless
I turn 45 in about 1.5 weeks and become homeless as of July 1st. This is not the milestone I was hoping to reach.

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45 & Homeless
I turn 45 in about 1.5 weeks and become homeless as of July 1st. This is not the milestone I was hoping to reach.
Crisis Line
as in, you’re becoming mine. As I find myself sitting here wondering how bad a razor will hurt it the blade is super short...or if using a knife is better since you can personally sharpen it until the blade is so thin that you’ll barely feel it. or rather that I will barely feel it. The urge to write hits.
I’ve been having a very hard time with my roommate...and if she kicks me out I really have no where. No where that I can stay with my dogs, which might seem like a minor thing but they really are my world. Most days it feels like they’re all I’ve got. Plus my living options would be couch surfing or staying with my mom. If I stay with my dogs, I get to take my sleeping bag and hope I don’t get raped in whatever alleyway I find to whole up in.
I’ve said since the beginning that if it came down to me being homeless, I would kill myself. Now I’m seeing it as a potential reality.
I got another bit of news today. Quest Health Center (which I’ve been trying to get into since July) called to tell me that I was beyond the care they offered. That I needed something more “comprehensive”. Basically, I’m too depressed, too suicidal, too complicated and with too many meds for them to consider a “good fit” for them. She spent a good 5 - 10 minutes explaining this and then reexplaining it so that I’d be good with the information she was giving me. Shitty news does not get less shitty by repeating it in different ways.
There isn’t one
I feel so fucking desperate today. My living situation is rocky - and if it continues to be, it’s going to come down to getting rid of (putting down) my dog or being kicked out. I will hate her if it comes to this.
I keep fucking things up. I send an email that I think is harmless and get a nasty one back telling me I’m a shitty person. I respond with an apology and get an even worse email back.
I’m back to not wanting to be here anymore. Not this physical space per se, although that’s certainly true but not existing. I need to figure out my dogs first. I don’t trust her to not just dump them at the pound.
I have decided to take a bunch of clonazePAM (of which I have plenty), lay down somewhere (couch, my bed, her bed?) and then take a razor and ...well...you know the rest.
It’s amazing to me how peaceful I feel once I have a plan in place and start talking about it. The thought of feeling peace...if even for a minute, brings me to my knees. I beg for it. Please, please! But...there’s none to be found. (If this worries you, it should...I’m running out of options.)
As things stand now, I’ve made myself as small and as invisible as I can in this house. I only go upstairs to do the dishes (yes, I get to do ALL of the dishes), to go to the bathroom and to occasionally boil pasta. Everything else I do in my room. I even have a super tiny fridge. I’m not seen, now I’m not supposed to be heard either.
Introducing...MY BRAIN!
I took a personality inventory a few weeks ago but just got the results on Friday.
I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder (no surprise there!). But I was also diagnosed with a Schizotypical Personality Disorder. My therapist kept reminding me that the results were based on where I was emotionally in that exact moment that I took the test. She also kept reminding me that the test doesn’t take in to account things like my pain level and my fatigue. Right now, you’re damned right that I’m isolating but that’s a newer thing.
I don’t now...I just feel like a fucked up mess.
Hey you! Yes, YOU!!!!
Ya know how when someone commits suicide, everyone always says that they wish the person would have asked for help; or there are so many people that loved the person - why didn’t they tell anyone?
I came straight out and told several of my “close” friends that I was suicidal. They all fucking bailed! If I could somehow be there to call them out for their hypocrisy, I would end it right now just to get their reactions. You are a bunch of self-absorbed hypocrites. We are no longer friends and you should leave now.
The “System”
I don’t want to sound like I’m one of those “Down with the Man” kind of people. I’m not. I like being a part of society and really like the benefits of it.
Having said that...there are a few things that can change. Can and should and it needs to happen now. If you’ve been reading my stuff, then you should know that I’m pretty busted broke. I also have lots of health mess. Right now, I’ve been without pain medication for about 3 days. The doc has me on a high dose of Tylenol. Well, insurance doesn’t cover over the counter stuff. It also doesn’t cover co-pays. I haven’t been able to buy the Tylenol and when the rest of my prescriptions come due next week, I won’t be able to fill any of the ones with co-pays.
I’m frustrated. I follow all of the rules. I jump through all the hoops, kiss all of the appropriate asses, and am always Little Mary Sunshine through it all. Not now. Now, I’m tearing up because I’m helpless. If you knew me...I mean really knew me...you’d know that being self-sufficient has been what’s kept me together this far. All I want is sugar and booze. Oh and I want my OMMP card to hurry up and get here because I could just be stoned out of my head and forget my woes for this minute.
Flaky
Clearly posting every day isn't going to work but I'll try to do more. Throughout the day, I constantly think of things to write...but never when I'm at my computer.
Tomorrow is my birthday and it looks like I'll be spending the evening by myself. All of a sudden this is making me feel really sad...and really alone. I've been feeling the loss of (most of) my friends. I feel like a pathetic looser.
I struggle with comparing my life now to what it used to be, and I always come up short. It's hard to be grateful and to feel happy about things now, when I can't keep from looking back to before all of this happened. I don't want to accept that I'm going to spend the rest of my life (such that it is) in pain and constantly feeling fatigued. That's assuming that I'm able to get this depression in check at some point.
Day 2
I don't have a ton of stuff to say today. I'm feeling fatigued. I think I may have over done it/ I guess I'll know tomorrow.
OK, Sunday, I tried to make it work but I'm just not feeling you. I'm leaving you. Monday is on it's way to come and get me, so, you need to go. I'll give you until 12 to get your shit and get out.
It's been awhile
hi.
I'm going to try to write something every day - it might be random but I think it will help me get my thoughts down. Several times a day I have tumblr rants in my head. Things that I'd like to post...need to post, but I'm never near my computer when they hit.
A lot has happened. I'm not going to catch you up but I'll tell you where I'm at now.
My docs have medicated the fuck out of me. I'm numb. there is nothing I care about...you. me. nothing. Why you might ask - My feelings about suicide have changed. I'm still "suicidal" but it doesn't scare me. Instead of running from it, I like it now. The best way I can describe it is to say that I'm flirting with it.
There's a certain power in it.
I've got it planned...I've had this planned for awhile...It will involve the Max. I live a block and a half from the MAX. I get a rush when I feel the train rushing by me.
Writing this, I guess I can see why they've drugged my up. I like how it feels...but then again, I always have liked altered states.
Urban Dictionary said it best...
Depression is a fucking bitch and i curse my humanity for being able to feel it.
Self inflicted?
I just spent the evening with a friend who told me that it was up to me to make my life better, that I've chosen to have a bad state of mind, that it's my fault & my lack of discipline that has resulted in the weight gain - which is a major contributor to the physical pain - so I did that to myself, if I really wanted a job I would have one and that I would do what was necessary to keep it, it's my lack of self-control that has created the situation that I'm in. That I've chosen this and did it to myself
Is this what people think when they see me, that I did all of this to myself? I feel like I fight every day to not have this be my life but what if she's right? If I'm doing this to myself, I should just give up fighting now. No wonder most of the people in my life have bailed. I'm tired and I don't want to be judged. I don't want to leave my house, I don't want to see or talk to anyone any more, I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to do this anymore. I'm hurting and I don't want to feel this way. I don't want to cry and feel sad all of the time. I want to crawl into a hole and never come out again.
Here are the Deets
Depression, chronic pain, anxiety, chronic fatigue, etc... These are hard things for people who have never experienced them to understand. So, to make it easier for the average brain to understand, I've broken down the last few months of my life as follows:
pain. anxiety. fear. FEAR. pain. DEPRESSION. loss. isolation. pain. PAIN. PAIN! depression. helplessness. loss of control. fear. depression. DEPRESSIONPAINDEPRESSIONPAIN. depression. hopelessness. anxious. betrayed. LOSS. loneliness. anxiety. anxiety.anxiety. CRUSHEDDEFEATEDBROKEN - (SS denying my claim). broken. broken. broken. hopeless. defeated. pointless. irrelevant. depressed. useless. shredded. pointless. pointless.pointless. pointless. pointless. pointless. pointless. pointless. lost. empty.
Well, there you have it. Any questions?
I woke up feeling like I completely suck at life. I have so many things going through my head, until I sit down to write and suddenly I can't come up with anything. I just want things to be different. Even writing that scares me...I don't want things to be bad different or more stressful different but good different.
I'm still feeling pretty apathetic. This is different from before this whole hearing mess. I was scared and out of control. Now, I feel hopeless and empty. I just don't care enough to care about any of this bullshit...but I'm doing a damned good job of going through the motions...just going through the day-to-day.
Oy Vey
Have I used that subject line before? I feel like I must have.
Anyway, I'm completely frustrated with my health care team. I've now had two therapists tell me that I'm non-responsive to treatment. I asked the psychiatrist to look at my meds because I don't feel like they are helping. She said that I'm on the best possible combination for people with my "complex condition." I'm depressed...not so complex. Then today, I was at the doctor's office and I asked for help with my weight. If I haven't said it before, I've gained 150 lbs in the last two years with no increase in calories. I've had test after test after test...and they all say I'm normal (tell that to the psychiatrist!) Here is a list of suggestions she made: fast; walk several hours a day with only one meal; limit myself to 1000 calories/day, etc... I'm still stunned. Am I the one on crack or is she seriously recommending I pursue very unhealthy choices to loose weight? I kept wanting to ask if I should just chop a leg off and call it good.
Something I've been thinking a lot about is the ramification of living long-term being suicidal...not like it's my plan to continue but more the fact that this has been in my head for a while now and doesn't show any signs of leaving. I've been fighting, in some way or another, my whole life. I continue to fight...I'm exhausted from it all and have lost sight of any reason to continue.
I don't want to come of as though I'm being whiny...blah, blah blah..."my whole life has been a struggle"...whine whine whine. I used to think of myself as being a very lucky person. I've had amazing opportunities - an error gave me the highest security clearance (way higher than any other civilian) when Pres. Clinton was here, so I got to work with six of his press people, working directly w/ him; Over the course of 3 years, I had 26 showings for my artwork; I've done makeup on John Heard, Sean Astin, Sara Paxton, Omid Abtahi (look him up), Scott Patterson and many others - things I can't really shake a stick at. Every time I've tried something new, I've had crazy, cool doors open for me.
That all feels so far off now. I think because each opportunity has seguewayed into something new. I'm at a loss now as to what is next for me...what to do with myself. So many times, I feel like I should (again!) stop whining and just celebrate what I've been able to enjoy in the past...like I'm being greedy...or maybe I've used up all the good things I get in life. Now I'm back to feeling/being pathetic.
This takes me back to the whole how does long term exposure to suicidal thoughts ultimately effects your health. If you can think yourself sick...then my thinking is cancerous - thick and filled with pus and mucus; black and slimy, oozing and putrid. There are times I think people must see it or smell it on me. Sometimes I don't know how they can't. It seeps through. Ever seen movies where something infects a character and it flows in to their eyes, like ink mixing with milk? That's how it flows into my eyes and clouds every thing I see, everything I experience.
As my mood is spiraling, I'm feeling more and more like I just don't want to be here.
BL barely speaks to me anymore. She acts and treats the dogs as if she hates them. I try so hard to be as invisible as possible. I basically hide in my room in hopes that nothing I do pushes her to kick me out. I spend so much time trying to occupy as little space as possible...my not occupying any would be the best thing for her.
I'm thinking of options for my dogs. If I don't, she'll just take them to a shelter. I don't want to just leave their welfare up to chance. Tonight is the first time that I've really thought about taking them with me. I don't know a way to do it painlessly. I thought about drowning them or snapping their spines/necks but I can't do it. I can't look at their little faces...the way the trust me...and hurt them. I don't know what to do. I can't leave them but I can't be here any more.
I'm sitting here, mentally going through the crisis plan my therapist and I came up with - I'm calming down a little but I'm still feeling pretty hopeless.
I need to find a new place to live ASAP. ASAPASAPASAPASAPASAPSOS SOSSOSSOSSOSASAPASAPASAPASAPASAP. Someplace that I can just be. Is there a hole I can crawl into? Somewhere that I can feel safe without feeling like I'm making someone else miserable.
How do I fight to live when I don't have a space to do so??