Wednesday, June 6, 2012

I am not ok

I made the call to enter the intensive outpatient program at the local psych hospital.  It was difficult, but not as difficult as living inside of my own head - that place is full of pain.

I am not ok.  I am very down right now.  While I enjoyed my day and time on the coast this afternoon, the shadows moved in without my consent and have taken hold.  Every movement is a cut from a razor.  Every breath is a raging fire.  It hurts to speak, think, hear, type, sit up. 

It hurts.

My mental illnesses are going to take this poor family down.  We certainly weren't living high off the hog before (what a dreadful saying), but we did have a home, vehicles, jobs, support from family and friends - we had things.  Now I no longer have a job, unemployment will not happen (you have to be available to work), I am unemployable, entering the hospital for weeks and weeks, and somehow these bills that we barely paid before - with help - will still have to be paid without my paycheck.


My husband is furiously working on this house - working against a deadline uncertain.  When will the money run out?  Will we make it that long?  Will the house be ready, show and sell before that moment when the song stops playing?

Will we be ready?  Able? 

I am not ok. 

The one thing I cling to is a statement made by a person who probably doesn't really give two shits about me - my therapist.  She said that it will be ok.  I keep saying that, but it's bullshit - how can we know?  We can't.  We don't.  We do not know. 

I am afraid to buy a bottle of water for fear that the $0.99 used to purchase that bottle of water may be necessary one of these days.  We've had those days over these last few years - not enough money for food or bills - but always paying the bills first because that is the right thing to do.

I am frozen in fear - unable to allow myself the luxury of taking a walk around the block because I should be at work right now.  I should be working.  Instead, someone else is sitting in my chair ... doing my work ... collecting my paycheck. 

I am not ok.    

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Regards, TMR