Archive for the depression Category

Wiped Out Wednesday

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , , , on April 17, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

So, on the sucky side…I had my dad on my step before 8 a.m. and he screamed at me because he had to knock twice before I answered my door. “Your house is on fire! It could be, no more attention than you pay to the door.” (I’ve asked and asked for a wireless doorbell for this reason, duh.) He was on my ass to get lawn mowed. I was still in my jammies. Then he volunteered my brother to help me which usually involves me reminding him not to lollygag. He did okay today, and I did 3/4 of the lawn on my own. Was still thankful for the help even if they didn’t do it out of kindness, they had to go out of town and didn’t want him sitting at home on the internet or game system.

I bathed.

I got a call.

It was the same woman from last night who I feared I had scorched earth with my meltdown. She asked me if I could come in at 1 p.m. for an interview today. I agreed, though that damn misdemeanor from 15 years ago on my record keeps screwing me over and it does hamper enthusiasm, on top of my own shame. (You cannot let go of past mistakes when the world won’t let you.) But even though it took me awhile to find as it was in a residential home 6 miles outside of town (15 miles from my house). I found it, didn’t even have a house number so I just guessed between the other house numbers on the mailboxes.

The interview went pretty well. She was laid back and seemed to forive me my trespass last night. She made it clear she can’t do anything for me until I get the state healthcare worker waiver which could take 4-6 weeks but if I get that done and headquarters okays it she said she’d let me get my feet wet as a sub for their regular workers so I could pick my hours and activity level. She was concerned about the panic attacks but I was just honest.

I came home feeling pretty pleased with myself.

Then my dad called and asked how it went and I told him…and he told me to move along, there HAS to be other jobs where my past doesn’t matter. UM, HUH???? I am making an effort and going with who calls me for interviews, ffs. Not to mention his woman isn’t even working part time and is always griping about needing money and she’s so bored just being a housewife…But she’s too good for Mickey D’s or any of the other places I am supposed to force people at gunpoint to interview and hire me. He’s such a hypocrite, but so typical of a narcissist. No matter how well I do, he is always there to shoot me down and remind me I need to do better. Why the rules are so different for his woman and their man child is beyond me. Hell, they let him keep every cent of his check, don’t even charge him for the $8 a day in gas it costs them to haul him back and forth to town. I’m raising a kid alone and I can’t catch a break.

Today he told me I can’t keep driving my car, safely, without 4 replacement tires due mine being dry rotted and about to blow at any time. And it’s like, wtf, with what money I’m just trying to keep the power bill on (try catching up with $870 dollars when your entire monthly income is only $835) and now I am stuck in Armpit because I can’t afford even half decent used tires…I can’t catch a break and every time we seem to get a little one, we get hit with another damn catastrophic expense.

I am exhausted. I need to just zone out, breathe, calm down. So that is what I am gonna do. I’ve earned it.

Gotta make you wonder about the donor not being able to find work for 7 months even with his background in management whereas I’ve at least had a few nibbles since I ventured outside applying only for jobs I have experience with. Methinks the man does not want a job because then he will be forced to support his kid. That is as low as it gets yet he says he’s a good man. Makes me wonder if his derangement is so extreme he needs hospitalized.

We’re still doing the fundraising thing (I’ve noticed the gofundme page says there’s been 0 shares, that’s brutal) but power, tires, and all this other crap…Gotta keep trying. It’s for a noble cause. I am trying to put my life back together.

The quickest option is, of course, our paypal account. (How well does Spook have me trained that so often I refer to everything as ‘ours’, not just ‘mine’?)

A million sporks of gratitude to everyone who has helped, spread the word, given us kind words of encouragement, even helped keep the cats fed and littered when I couldn’t…YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME AND WE LOVE YOU ALL.

Now this wicked woman is going to take a rest and shut off my brain for a bit while Spook is at her grandpa’s. I earned a zone out after all I have accomplished this week, and especially today.

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The Final Meltdown

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , on April 17, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

*Sorry, aiming for a lil 80’s hair band/Earope/Final Countdown there.
.
So here is my meltdown from last night. If I look glassy eyed and out of it, it is because I took my evening doses of Atarax, Benadryl, Buspar, and Xanax and was kinda loopy.’

It’s a 19 minute clip of me being repetitve and neurotic and possibly panic-whiny. Be kind.

Off to mow the lawn, allegedly my brother is going to help. My dad is such a control freak showing up at my door at 7:55 a.m. and insisting I must MOW RIGHT NOW. Sometimes it’s easier to just do whatever to make them piss off. And the lawn looks pretty gross. Just hope I can get it done before it rains and hope my brother will just mow instead of caterwalling and lollygagging,I have a 9 year old to raise, I don’t need a 23 year old man child I gotta supervise.

A Brief word on how I further fucked up my life tonight…

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , on April 17, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I am uploading a video to youtube about today but it is so slow going…Might post by noon tomorrow but 3G is what I have so snail-net is my only option.

I have burning the candle at all ends. My interview yesterday went well but due to state law, the lady told me I likely would not get hired and that is not in her hands. Hey, I managed to clean myself up and show, with printed resume and proof of ID per their request so I am making an effort…

Tonight, I made an epic fail that will likely be biting me on the ass for 10 years.

It was 6:30 at night so I thought I was safe from formal calls. My kid was supposed to be wrangling the kittens, but then she came in here and a couple of furbabies disappeared under furniture…then I got a call and it was a number that wasn’t local and I didn’t recognize it and by then, I’d taken 8 spam calls today alone and…I was just combative and said, leave a message after the BEEP and hung up. The same number called back and asked if they had the right number because they were an employer…

And I would have double face palmed if I hadn’t been busy wrangling kittens cos Spook got too wrapped up in TV, then any time the phone rings, she has to be right in my face asking who is it, what do they want, tell them I say hi…

I crumbled. I’m not proud of it but then again, I have never once said I was no longer disabled.

No, lack of money and the donor not paying support and being forced to move to this hellscape, that is why my 9 year run of being able to keep things going has become a no go.I hav nothing against working and earning my keep. But with mental illness saying you’re all cured is like trying to do a job in a walk up building while in a cast and on crutches. You need to make a live, you are willing to try, but you’re just not 100%. Difference being, no one cuts an inch of slack for the mentally disabled.

So…We’re still raising money, we only need a little under $100 for the power to stay on (then I gotta raise another $200 by May3) and I want with every fiber of my being to fire my ass trash woman hating lawyer and get one who is competent which takes money and of course, we need to get our cats fixed and treated for flea and…We’re not doing this to buy luxury items or bilk anyone. e just need help. IF this state and the law did their job and made delinquent parents be held accountable, we wouldn’t be in this position. I am thinking about starting a change.org petition on that whole matter cos it doesn’t matter if you’re a single mom or dad, employed or disabled…No way the deadbeat parent should retain visitation rights yet not contribute to their child’s upbrining in any way. That needs to change.

So…paypal gets the donated money to us faster.

The formal fundraiser takes a few days but it is here.

The video is 39% uploaded over two hours so, yeah, it may post tomorrow. I will let you know but it’s 20 minutes of me all but crying and trying to do myself in by eating shards of glass, so feel free to skip when it does post. IF it does. My 3G phone data will get to 90% or so then say oopsie, upload failed, try again later….Which again makes me want to chomp on glass shards then spit them out like nails from a nail gun….

I need to go kick myself mentally some more for screwing up that employer call earlier. I had to be at my breaking point because I…that isn’t really me. I was even nice to the Jehovah’s Witness lady today who visited yet again….I snapped. And in a small rural area with limited employment…that is gonna be biting me on the butt for years to come.

I didn’t overestimate or underestimate myself. I was quite honest in saying I am not cured, I am not even doing that well, but to take care of my baby girl…I am willing to push myself to the brink and beyond.

Today I just went…over the edge. It happens, and I am truly sorry.

Brain reboot time.

Fundraiser Update:

Posted in depression, health with tags , , , , , , on April 15, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

You can read about it here.

Bottom line, we need about $300 by next Tuesday to keep service, the another $270 by April 2nd. THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS is the only thing keeping us from our goal which is to not lose electricity right now.

I AM BEGGING AND PLEADING EVERYONE TO HELP ME OUT HERE. I KNOW PEOPLE USE SOCIAL MEDIA, I KNOW SOME CAN DONATE FIVE BUCKS, I KNOW THERE ARE PEOPLE OUT THERE WHO ARE SOCIAL MEDIA GENIUSES WHO COULD HELP SPOOK AND I GET THIS DONE.

The only reason I’ve linked to paypal here is because receiving funds through gofundme can take up to 5 business days and this disconnect notice’s shelf life will expire before that.

Please help us.

Do Or Die Time-Please Repost, Share, and Help Any Way You can

Posted in depression, employment, health with tags , , , , , , , on April 13, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

job search screen shot

So I started a fundraiser, in addition to setting up paypal
to take donations.

I am also going to put in some photos to show my monthly income, how many months we have been without any child support payments, and proof that I AM looking for work.

We need to be shown some love, guys.

Please please please…This is to keep the power turned on, it’s very important. Plus legal fees, the cost of a new psych doc, and to afford the newer treatments insurance won’t cover…THIS IS IMPORTANT.

Happy Caturday and bless you all.

Stale Hell, Fresh Hell

Posted in cat and kitten pictures, depression with tags , , , , , on April 13, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

So, yeah, click the cute kitty pic and donate through paypal if you can. I don’t like being this repetetive and aggressive but THIS IS ABOUT KEEPING A HOME FOR MY CHILD SO I CANNOT BE DEEMED UNFIT SIMPLY FOR BEING BROKE. And fyi, if *someone* wasn’t over $4000 behind in child support, we wouldn’t be in this position.

Four days since she emailed the donor. 4 days without him replying. This is my fresh hell. She has been having so many screaming meltdowns, I truly think the situation is upsetting her more than it is making her happy to see her ‘father’. No one cares about the damage being but me. That lawyer may as well being working for the donor. The thought of taking her tomorrow to meet the dreaded one has me both anxious but depressed. 8 years is a long time to go without seeing your kid, especially when you lived around the corner and never once asked or even tried to see her. I know my kid and if he buys her stuff or acts silly, she will love him. Then later the fallout will come and I’ll probably be the worst parent on Earth (he does live in town, remember) so I’ll be on the shit list and he will be elevated to God like status. But it’s not just my ego.

It is that my daughter is so fickle and he is not good at keeping his word so first time he messes up, it will still be my fault and I will be bandaging her psychic wounds all the while that grinning monkey of a lawyer tells me this is what is best for her. No, it’s just what is easiest for him. Sooner he gets this through the court the sooner he can send his overly padded bill for 3 years to my uncle who guaranteed it. Three fucking years on a non contested no property and no custody dispute case. He makes me sick, he is why people despise lawyers. Any other lawyer it would have taken 2 hearings and done. By dragging it out for years (because the donor moved and switched jobs so much and never notified the court) he ranks up more fees.

I am trying to keep a positive and hopeful attitude that this is what is best for Spook but…you know how you get that nagging sensation in your gut that tells you it wasn’t just you, that there is something very wrong with another person? That is how I am feeling and my instinct is to protect my child, from physical harm or mind games.

Stale hell, of course, is that I haven’t bathed in a week, my meds aren’t doing fuck all, I still just want to sleep all of the time, and anything beyond a trip to the local minimart sents me into a panic spiral. And because all of this other stuff is weighing me down, the housework has piled up and my brain says, hell, you’re unfit, they’re gonna take your kid away…and the other part of me who is just so fucking exhausted and tired of having a thousand pounds of stress placed on me with no one willing to even toss me a lifesaver as I bob in the water…that part is like, I got no fight left in me. If being behind on laundry and needing to mow the lawn are fatal, tap me out.

I mean seriously. The child has her own bedroom. She has an MP3 player, a tablet, a dollhouse, a swingset, a scooter, a bike. The fridge is always filled with fruit and veggies in addition to food for meals. She is kept clean, goes to the doctor and dentist, she has friends, she has a pet cat….So if my biggest sin is the difficulty I have always had keeping up with housework, it would make far more sense for them to get me once a week help for this stuff than to label me unfit over dustbunnies and being disorganized.

I put nothing past the donor. I could just see him saying, hey, I have a girlfriend and we have a stable home with a second bedroom and I’m not working so our home would be better for Spook…He is that important in his own mind. And to get out of Armpit, I swear my kid would sell me out in a heartbeat. She hates it here more than she loves me. As evidenced by yet another 90 minute screaming fit last night that started out as “give me a bath NOW’ and I said in awhile, and she started growling then said, fine if I let her have fudge round cookies…I said no, there’s carrots and celery in the fridge and crackers, you can eat that…and then like Linda Blair channeling satan the child went ballistic, accused me of never bathing her, never feeding her and being a starver, I am mean, I do nothing but watch TV, I like the cats more than her, and if I really loved her I’d give her all the cookies she wants and move us back to town where she is happy.

Sound exhausting and nerve fracturing?

Try 4-5 nights of it every single week. Ever since we moved here. One more reason to swallow pride and try to raise funds so I can get us moved back to town at some point. Not like I dig living in the sticks. But I’m not blaming my dislike for rural towns on her or anyone else, this is just how it went down. I too am not entirely happy here. I am also grown up enough to know that a simple change of locale isn’t going to solve a damn thing because I need to cover the bills here or I won’t be able to get service should we get the chance to move.

I know, I am cracking my fucking lids, writing less coherently than usual. This is where I am now. Sure could use a few kind people to extend a hand and help pull me out of the rabbit hole. I got three more ‘no thank yous’ from my job search today and I am feeling pretty useless. Those feelings of useless are depression’s way of weakening you to do bad bad desperate BAD things to escape the pain you’re feeling.

I don’t like that place in my own mind so here I am, reaching out.

Mom and Daughter need help.

paypal.me/MorgueAndSpook

And a basket of kittens cos it is, after all, Caturday.