This Life I Have Lived…

I don’t know if it is the full moon or what, but I have been flooded with memories of my life.  All sad, nothing good.  After all, all good things are short lived.  I really should of ended my life when I was a teenager like I wanted too…

I was raped twice, at age 15 and again at age 21.  My father groped me when I was 19.  My childhood involved mental and physical abuse, only to be followed by three husbands that did roughly the same things.  I have never been able to handle crowds or being around a lot of people.  I asked for mental help in my teen years, only to be told that we don’t do that sort of thing.  It is no wonder I am the mess in which I am, just looking at all I have lived through…

Why do I continue to think I might miss something if I am no longer here?  I have NO evidence of that.  Life has proven to me that there will always be pain and suffering.  Come on, I don’t even have a vehicle or a working oven.  Yes, I just thought about Thanskgiving and how I have no way to cook a turkey or any of the other things I always make…

I had a doctors appointment yesterday at 9:20am.  Yesterday was also the death anniversary of my son, 14 years now.  I arrived at the appointment at 9:15am.  After I sat in a busy waiting room (I don’t do well with that) for 25 minutes, I began to have a panic attack and I had to get out of there as fast as my pain riddled body would allow.  Yes, I left, I had too.  Even after returning to my home and taking anxiety medication, I continued for hours to have panic, anxiety and just craziness.  I couldn’t even call the doctor to explain and rescheduled until 3pm.  See, I HAVE to see my doctor, because I HAVE to see him in order to get him to write a letter stating why I need to be on anxiety meds in order for my pain doctor to continue to prescribe me pain meds.  WTF!  The pain doctor read some study stating that people on pain meds and benzodiazepines have a greater risk of death.  Just more BS for me to try to deal with.  I looked into these studies and guess what?  It was due to people being new to the meds, which I am not, and people that also drank alcohol, which I do not!  If I don’t have both of those meds, I am 10 times more likely to end my suffering.  Maybe I should write that up in a letter to the doctor.  

The BS doesn’t stop there.  My general doctor has been prescribeng my mental health meds ever since  my psychiatrist dropped me saying my insurance wasn’t paying.  It took me a year to get in with that damn psychiatrist.  I finally found a psychiatrist under my insurance and made an appointment.  They said I had to see the counselor in order to see the psychiatrist, which was fine with me.  I went for my initial intake appointment.  She wanted to see me every week, but I don’t have a damn vehicle and I have to get a ride from my daughter in law, so I set up to return the following week, but said I would have to do every two weeks after that.  Anyway, they called me the day before my return appointment and told me that my secondary insurance did not have mental health coverage activated on it and I would have to pay $40 everytime I came in. WTF…. I am disabled due to mental health related issues, how the hell do I not have that coverage!  I get the extra help from the state because my income is so freaking low!  I absolutely hate this state, it sucks beyond sucking.  So, I have to call said insurance to try to fix this problem, but I haven’t been able to do it, because my panic won’t let it happen right now.  I did email them and they sent me the contact info of whom I need to converse with in regards to this issue.  Needless to say, I cannot return to see them since I don’t have money to pay them.  Right back to square one again.  

Honestly, it just amazes me that I even get out of bed every day.  I wish I could just sleep all of the time, but my pain won’t allow that!  Oh, let’s not forget that I have to go to court on Monday.  A creditor that is owed a chunk of money is going after me for it.  In my divorce my ex was made responsible for this debt, but you have to be taken to court in order for them to even go after who is responsible.  Great fun, not!  I will have to get up hours before I have to leave.  Get just enough anxiety medication in me to be able to go there.  Wear clothes required by court that will make me entirely too hot and sick.  Survive through the appointment and get my butt back to my safe place, home!  I hate leaving my house!  Have I mentioned how hot it is here?  It feels like hell, literally.  From the 90’s through the 100’s with high humidity…

I did make Frosted Fudge Brownies last night.  I wanted them so I made it happen, then I ate too much and got ill.  Now I still have the mess in the kitchen to clean up.  My life is on a constant repeat.  After I can finally get my body moving, I clean the kitchen from a chair, then I wipe down all the surfaces in the house and I vacuum while in a chair.  This takes hours and hours.  By the time that is done, I hurt so bad I have to sit in a chair with a pile of pillows and I watch tv to try to occupy my mind until I can go to bed.  I wake in the early morning and have to get out of bed, due to the pain, then I repeat it all over again and again. Some life huh…

Look how fat I am getting…

Also, a pic of the brownies…