Battling the Blackness
Since I lost the job, I've had a hard time fighting the dark mood that that has been dogging me for two years, since My Stupid Leg went to hell in a handbasket and took me along with it. My usually chipper mood has been under attack and rarely present since August (and had been in hiding for a while before that). While I wouldn't say it's a full on depression, the only reason it isn't is because I'm fighting it. However, the fight is getting harder and harder.
The latest blow just happened do coincide with Christmas. That interview I had the first week of December was supposed to let me know either way by Christmas. At least, that's what I'd been told.
Last week, I got a call asking me to complete a new background check form. I got a copy of the report a week ago, which means they did, too. The fact that I hadn't heard from them was troublesome to me, but Ed thought it was a good sign, that they'd call me right away if I was out of the running. I tried my best not to get my hopes up. I really did. Well, Christmas has come and gone and all is quiet on the job front. Not a peep.
I was trying so hard not to get my hopes up about it because I figured I'd be disappointed. Well, even without thinking I got the job, rather that I interviewed well, it royally SUCKS to be the last on the playground when choosing sides for kickball. Again.
The letter that came yesterday, informing me that I will receive another 13 weeks of unemployment is only mildly comforting. I've been out of work for 18, with one offer of a part time job that got killed by a doctor's note. This one probably got killed by my shitty credit and the foreclosure.
It's been rough going, and the depression keeps dragging me closer to the abyss. This month's rent is being paid in part thanks to me cashing in the last few shares of my employee stock purchase program at a previous employer. I don't know what I'll do when February rolls around and I still don't have a job, because there's nothing left to draw funds from. Nada. Zip. I now completely understand how people become homeless.
It's hard to get motivated when you're probably going to get rejected again. Yes, the SSDI is moving forward with an exam in early January, but even if they do decide to approve me, that will take months for the decision to be made. In the meantime, how the heck do I pay the rent, the utilities and all the other things?
I thought I knew what being broke was before. That was trivial-I just didn't have an extra twenty bucks that week to go out to dinner with the kids. Now, it's a question of whether the money will be in there when the car insurance does the direct debit. A coworker wants to trade cars with Ed-the Jeep meets his needs, and the sedan would better suit Ed's needs. There's the matter of registering the thing-there isn't any money to do it.
Then there's stuff like Gameboy's meds. He'll run out of Fluvoxamine before the next unemployment check hits. The only reason why he's getting his Abilify is because his doctor has been giving us samples for months. The Strattera is only happening because we get a two month supply from Canada for the price of a 15 day supply here. It was suggested we call our congressman, but they're out of the office for holidays. The Medicaid story is a novel in and of itself. Hmmm, maybe I should email the story to those elected officials.
Today, Ed's off from work and wants to do something. We've had a major role reversal, in that I'm thinking "We have no freaking money to DO anything, what the heck can we do?" This has been the way my mind has been running the last four months. I think he's having a hard time with being the optimistic one.
Prior to that, it was the Leg shit. I think I'd done halfway decent reconciling the fact that my leg is NEVER going to get better, that I'm not going to be the active person I once was. No, I wasn't happy about it, but I had made some sort of peace that there are things about me that are gone forever and things that I can only do when the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Mars.
I was chatting with a friend yesterday who really gets it. The whole "I moved to Florida and the job market sucks and my health issues really suck and I don't even have money to move back to where I used to live to get a job and I like it here but it is so freaking depressing not working and the fact that I'm a shadow of my former self is probably pissing my spouse off" blues. It felt good to voice some of the stuff that I can't to anyone else. I'm supposed to be the strong one, the resilient person, the nurturer and rock for others. My own demons are burying me.
Harder still is when I share even a small part of the story with people we know. "Can't your families help you out?" Um, that's a no. You don't want to go there. There are members of my family who have their hands out, thinking that I've got money they don't (ha), another whose in as bad straits as I am and yet another with her own health issues.
So here I sit, at the end of 2008 and hoping that 2009 will be an improvement over this past year. Knowing my damn luck since I've moved to this damn state, it'll probably get worse.
The latest blow just happened do coincide with Christmas. That interview I had the first week of December was supposed to let me know either way by Christmas. At least, that's what I'd been told.
Last week, I got a call asking me to complete a new background check form. I got a copy of the report a week ago, which means they did, too. The fact that I hadn't heard from them was troublesome to me, but Ed thought it was a good sign, that they'd call me right away if I was out of the running. I tried my best not to get my hopes up. I really did. Well, Christmas has come and gone and all is quiet on the job front. Not a peep.
I was trying so hard not to get my hopes up about it because I figured I'd be disappointed. Well, even without thinking I got the job, rather that I interviewed well, it royally SUCKS to be the last on the playground when choosing sides for kickball. Again.
The letter that came yesterday, informing me that I will receive another 13 weeks of unemployment is only mildly comforting. I've been out of work for 18, with one offer of a part time job that got killed by a doctor's note. This one probably got killed by my shitty credit and the foreclosure.
It's been rough going, and the depression keeps dragging me closer to the abyss. This month's rent is being paid in part thanks to me cashing in the last few shares of my employee stock purchase program at a previous employer. I don't know what I'll do when February rolls around and I still don't have a job, because there's nothing left to draw funds from. Nada. Zip. I now completely understand how people become homeless.
It's hard to get motivated when you're probably going to get rejected again. Yes, the SSDI is moving forward with an exam in early January, but even if they do decide to approve me, that will take months for the decision to be made. In the meantime, how the heck do I pay the rent, the utilities and all the other things?
I thought I knew what being broke was before. That was trivial-I just didn't have an extra twenty bucks that week to go out to dinner with the kids. Now, it's a question of whether the money will be in there when the car insurance does the direct debit. A coworker wants to trade cars with Ed-the Jeep meets his needs, and the sedan would better suit Ed's needs. There's the matter of registering the thing-there isn't any money to do it.
Then there's stuff like Gameboy's meds. He'll run out of Fluvoxamine before the next unemployment check hits. The only reason why he's getting his Abilify is because his doctor has been giving us samples for months. The Strattera is only happening because we get a two month supply from Canada for the price of a 15 day supply here. It was suggested we call our congressman, but they're out of the office for holidays. The Medicaid story is a novel in and of itself. Hmmm, maybe I should email the story to those elected officials.
Today, Ed's off from work and wants to do something. We've had a major role reversal, in that I'm thinking "We have no freaking money to DO anything, what the heck can we do?" This has been the way my mind has been running the last four months. I think he's having a hard time with being the optimistic one.
Prior to that, it was the Leg shit. I think I'd done halfway decent reconciling the fact that my leg is NEVER going to get better, that I'm not going to be the active person I once was. No, I wasn't happy about it, but I had made some sort of peace that there are things about me that are gone forever and things that I can only do when the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Mars.
I was chatting with a friend yesterday who really gets it. The whole "I moved to Florida and the job market sucks and my health issues really suck and I don't even have money to move back to where I used to live to get a job and I like it here but it is so freaking depressing not working and the fact that I'm a shadow of my former self is probably pissing my spouse off" blues. It felt good to voice some of the stuff that I can't to anyone else. I'm supposed to be the strong one, the resilient person, the nurturer and rock for others. My own demons are burying me.
Harder still is when I share even a small part of the story with people we know. "Can't your families help you out?" Um, that's a no. You don't want to go there. There are members of my family who have their hands out, thinking that I've got money they don't (ha), another whose in as bad straits as I am and yet another with her own health issues.
So here I sit, at the end of 2008 and hoping that 2009 will be an improvement over this past year. Knowing my damn luck since I've moved to this damn state, it'll probably get worse.
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