Been in and out of the hospital with medical issues but will resume writing later this week. Still weak but still here
Basically, this recovering addict and recent homeless person now has, believe it or not, an apartment to call her very own. I have only lived by myself, on my very own, in my very own apartment, about six months out of my almost 31 years on this planet. I have always been in someone else’s domain basically. Now this nice little one bedroom, hardwood floors, place is MINE. I am so excited that I may faint at any moment. The place is part of a building that this company recently bought and remodeled so it is not quite ready to move in yet. But I will be getting that call any day now. I don’t have much yet, but there is an organization that will hook me up with some furniture to start out with. I get a BED!! Does anyone have ANY idea how long it has been since I have slept in a REAL bed? Let alone one of my very own to stretch out in and snore and drool and no one cares? Okay, too much information sorry
SO, things are working out, slowly but surely. I am getting there, really. I will keep it real with you. I have a sort of self-sabotage button that I have a bad habit of pushing. So I did well in my first two weeks of classes, got an apartment, got my social security check back, and then had a moment where I slipped up and used. I am trying to put my head back up and move forward. I screwed up, but I don’t have to continue to screw up and fall back down the rabbit hole.
I know the people in my life are happy for me and disappointed at the same time. I am too. But all I can do is keep going forward and not let this one slip up cause me to fall all the way off a cliff. I can’t wait to show you all some pictures when I move in!! Thank you for everyone’s support through all of this and in the future.
Be well and blessed
Maybe I am in shock. Maybe I am trying to focus on the present and future and forget my past of even 24 hours ago.
Yesterday I can focus on the fact that I got my paperwork finished with the section 8 people and is currently being processed. Or I can focus on the fact that my disability check is finally being put in the bank in the next couple of days and that is awesome.
Or I can focus on the fact that after all of this happened I ran into a violent ex-bf’s best friend, and this ex-bf tracked me down and attacked me and more than likely has my wallet now. Yes, I am bruised and banged up but I got away. Yes, I exercised my resources regarding this.
The best news is that I am currently completely broke. How is this good news? It’s keeping me from using today. I will keep it real with you, if I had money right now, I would not be writing this. I would be looking and finding it. Sad but true.
I am trying to be grateful for what I do have and stay safe. Just for today.
My reminder to myself today: It takes true strength for me to cry, so today I will let it out so I do not explode.
To say that recently I have been overwhelmed would be an understatement. A huge one. In the past week I have:
- returned to Ohio from South Carolina
- start school tomorrow
- began heading up the Community Resource Center at my church again as well as starting a new Sunday School program
- trying to make some extra money through articles (see: http://voices.yahoo.com/tips-those-newly-diagnosed-bipolar-disorder-11948459.html?cat=5 )
- trying to straighten out the delays and mishaps that are occurring with this section 8 housing. (top of the waiting list but waiting on paperwork issues)
- Social Security mishap that has delayed my disability check for at least a week (can we say Broke Much??)
- temporarily staying in a fairly unhealthy and negative household where I am constantly uncomfortable, but at least it’s warm
- everyday living problems having to do with my physical health
- trying to stay sober another day (52 days today actually, yayyyy)
- trying to get the resources together to start the process of an advocacy campaign (this may be delayed longer than I had planned)
Needless to say, things are rough right now, there’s no doubt about it. I look forward to the future but sometime I dread the hard work and white knuckling and just basic coping that I have to do to get through the day. I am having many issues with all parts of my health right now and all of them are signaling a major overload in stress.
So, if you do not see me on my blog, twitter, wherever do not worry. I am still here, but I am trying to delegate my time so my mind and body do not shut down.
Thanks and love,
My passion has died with one single phone call. I am truly scared. Now what?
Basically, the people from public housing back in Ohio (where I started) called today and said I have been given a Section 8 voucher after FINALLY reaching the top of the waiting list. The trick is that it is only good for two weeks.
What’s complicated about that? Well, I am currently in South Carolina, over 500 miles away. So it’s very complicated. If I come back in the next two weeks to apartment hunt I will have no place to stay. That will put me for a little while either in a homeless shelter or living on the streets where a blizzard just blanketed the entire county. Yay.
No, I don’t think it’s such a great idea to head back to Ohio because the triggers will be often and many. I am strong, but so are the people who are looking for me in a very bad way.
The positive side is that all my resources are there. Here, my health insurance is not accepted anywhere and I am running low on many of my medications. Back in Ohio I have doctors and counselors and social workers and meetings and… well I have all my resources there.
My dad will be home soon and I will discuss it with him. But it seems that I am about to hop back on that Greyhound for a return trip to Ohio and I have a TON to do before I can exit South Carolina and not a lot of time to do it. Happy New Year huh? I may be celebrating midnight New Year’s Eve on a Greyhound, how ’bout that?
Ok, I feel a little better already. I will update you all as this drama continues.
Update 45min later: I found friends who are in recovery that I can stay with for a little while. Bonus is that they have a car so if I pay them gas money I can avoid the bus, which is a major trigger that houses more triggers. Yayyy things are working out already!
I personally overuse this word- stigma. Essentially yes, the mental health community from those that are bipolar or schizophrenic to those with addictions and ADHD have been branded with a mark. This mark usually means that we are discriminated against or looked down upon by our families and supposed loved ones. Now it seems we are banded together as a community because we are being grouped together and called VIOLENT and DANGEROUS.
In reality, if you take a random group of people from any part of the world from any circumstance and put them together and call them VIOLENT and DANGEROUS this will be true of a small percentage of them. It doesn’t make any difference if these people have a history of a mental illness or not. It just makes NO SENSE that this is what it has become. Everytime we as a community take two steps forward, someone comes in a does a senseless and violent act and it pushes us back not two steps or three but into the Dark Ages again!
People are scared, God knows that I understand that. As a mother of a first-grader, I am terrified to send her back to school. I am scared to go to the movies. I am scared as much as everyone else. But you, the government and heads of big organizations such as NRA can NOT classify those of us with a Mental Health Diagnosis as a bunch of terrorists. Before you chose to open your big mouths, try reading some statistics and remember one thing:
WE HAVE BIG MOUTHS TOO!
So before you CHOSE to put your foot in your mouth again, open your ears and listen to us. We know others in the mental health community and ourselves far better than you do Mr. Wayne LaPierre, executive vice-president of the National Rifle Association.
I found this information majorly disturbing.
Don’t get me started on the fact that I do NOT want my name in some database. This makes me feel like they are about to round us up and tattoo a barcode on us so we can be tracked. This makes me sick.
What REALLY jerks my chain in about these morons spending billions of dollars on these campaigns and spouting this crap to our government about how to “deal” with us. The obvious answer is that those dollars and cents need to be flooded into the mental health care system. How are we supposed to help ourselves if the government can not fund the programs. How are we supposed to avoid the catastrophies like suicides if we don’t get help and treatment. There are people out there honestly trying to help and who care, but these people burn out because there are too many to help and too few that care. We need treatment, we need medication, we need people that care, we need funding,
WE NEED HELP
We do not need people calling us dangerous terrorists. We need those people that are being the loudest to be the ones HELPING not the ones hurting us. We are hurt enough.
(who is done being a victim and is just seriously pissed off)
- NRA and LaPierre unite disarmament advocates as gun owners remain divided (examiner.com)
- Big Holes Exposed in NRA’s Mental Health Plan (alternet.org)
- Liberals deny link between mental illness and mass shootings (twitchy.com)
- NRA Proposes a Police State in Response to Sandy Hook Massacre (fromthetrenchesworldreport.com)
- Yet another terrible idea from the NRA (washingtonmonthly.com)
- Psychiatry professor says NRA is ‘reinforcing stereotypes’ about mentally ill (rawstory.com)
And the addict that will pick up for the first time today not knowing what they risk, as well as the addict that will pick up for the last time today, dying in the grips of active addiction.
I have been in treatment for addiction more than once, and for me the hardest emotional battle is that you know somewhere inside of you that these people who you bond with and live with 24/7 for however many days… honestly many of them will not make it. I have hoped and prayed and reached out to these people that I was recently in treatment with and pulled many of them deep into my heart. I feel now that I may have made a mistake on my part.
See, the most important thing for me to understand right now is that I must first take care of ME in order to help anyone else. This is one reason why I am glad that I have put so much physical distance between me and the people I can about right now.
This is the story as to where all this comes from. One hour ago my phone rang. The ringtone was familiar since it belongs to the girl that was my roommate in treatment. I hadn’t heard from her much recently and I did know why. I knew she had started getting high again. I hesitated picking up the phone, but something told me to pick it up. It was not her, it was her husband… He had waited for her to fall back asleep in order to call me. He knows she and I are close, but honestly I had gotten sort of close with him in the time I was still in Ohio. He felt comfortable calling me first to see if I knew what was going on with her. In her addicted brain, she was convinced that he had no idea. I knew better than this but am in no position to tell her what to do and had no way of calling him without going through her. She was very wrong. While I expected him to be anger, as she expects him to be, he was calling me desperate for advice and so that he has someone to go to about this. His heart is broken, just as mine is. Again, I am in no mental or physical condition to be telling him what to do. But I gave him some options based on my personal experience. I also told him to have her call me. He also asked me what she had taken and I told him what she had told me and he took quick action to remove everything from the house and is about to go into a full blown search of their apartment. I am not the kind of person to be a snitch or a rat, but I would rather she be alive and hate me than to die loving me. I couldn’t have that on my heart and survive it. Plus, there is a minor child involved in this situation and as a mother myself, I couldn’t have that on my heart either.
I let this woman get into my heart and maybe I made a mistake and maybe I didn’t. I can’t possibly know. I do know that when she calls me I guarantee you tough love will commence. I will not watch her go through this, I will not put myself through this, and I can not force her to stop. If she does stop I will welcome her back with open arms. Otherwise, I will have to move on as I have before with people I have loved.
Another story about this is that while I was in treatment I got close with a guy that shared the exact same addiction as me. He seemed to have his life together and know what to do. The week before Thanksgiving we heard that he had OD’d and gone into a coma. That’s all I know at this point, and all I will probably ever know. I pray for him daily as well.
Every day addicts around the world die from this disease. Not that long ago I was almost one of them, risking an OD half a dozen times a day. Once I succeeded in OD’ing and stopped breathing. I spent a week in the ICU. I came very close to a statistic of “just another dead junkie.” I am not willing to take those risks anymore. Not for any reason.
I will be taking that phone call shortly I am sure. I know that that very thing will hurt my heart, but it is what I need to do. For both of us.