Rock, Paper, Scissors

And now, back to life in the real world where I’m still out of work, there are few suitable prospects, and I’m playing Rock, Paper, Scissors with the utility bills to try and figure out which is going to suck least when it gets shut off. If I let the phone bill go, not only I but my husband and sister will be without phones. If I let the cable/Internet bill go, I have no way to fill out online job applications or even see what’s out there. And if I let the electric bill go, we won’t be able to use any of those things. Then again, if we let the rent go, none of the rest of it will matter anyway.

I don’t see any way out of this mess that won’t cost us dearly. And when I can’t see beyond the end of my nose, my mood goes in the toilet. I’m not sleeping well and have been a little down for the past few days, but this morning when I was assessing our finances, I had a few moments of weakness and allowed my mind to wander off down paths that are much better left unexplored. I imagined the relief of not having to deal with any of this shit anymore. I even thought briefly about how to accomplish the deed, which wouldn’t be difficult with the pharmacy I have in my house.

I am heartily sick of worrying about money. And more than that, I’m sick of being afraid: of becoming homeless, of not being able to afford meds and food, of losing my pets and especially my dignity. As much as I’ve been through in life, I’ve always had one thing going for me, and that’s pride. I don’t do failure. I’m not going to start now either, because I’ve finally got it through my head that I’m not a loser. But right now I’m sure as hell not winning, and with the exception of the memory of holding my new grandbaby yesterday, I have lost my happy thoughts.

As always, however, my stronger self pushed its way through the steaming pile my mind had created, and I began chanting to myself, “This too shall pass”, which is my mantra for getting through these things. I also reminded myself that ending it all is a permanent solution to a temporary problem, and chided myself for even letting it into my consciousness. It’s just MONEY, for Pete’s sake. It means a lot, but it’s not worth that.

Ever the visual type, I imagined myself stomping the S-word into dust and sweeping it out the door. Good riddance.

Two hours later Will and I were out running errands, and he said something silly that amused me far more than it should have, and I broke up. It was the delicious kind of laughter that has more than a little hysteria in it, and I hee-hawed until tears ran down my face. But it was healing, for it knocked down the wall my fears had built up and calmed me down. A LOT.

So now I’m sitting here writing this post and feeling a bit sheepish for allowing my brain to try to murder me, if only for a few fleeting minutes. Yeah, I’m depressed, but I’ll be OK—this is all situational. And not being particularly impulsive at this moment in time, I still have the ability to think things through. Two years ago, I’m not sure I would have thought it through. Nor would I have told anyone what I was feeling. What a difference time and medications can make!

I still hate what’s happening, and I’m desperate to find a way out of it that doesn’t totally suck. But June’s rent is finally paid, the water, lights, phones, and Internet are still operational, and our car is still insured (even though our rates just doubled because of that stupid no-damage accident in February, which is a rant for another day). Next week, I’ll have to choose which utilities will remain in service…..but I don’t have to do it today. And I’m not going ANYWHERE.


Published by bpnurse

I'm a retired registered nurse and writer who also happens to be street-rat crazy, if the DSM-IV.....oops, 5---is to be believed. I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder at the age of 55, and am still sorting through the ashes of the flaming garbage pile that my life had become. Here, I'll share the lumps and bumps of a late-life journey toward sanity.... along with some rants, gripes, sour grapes and good old-fashioned whining from time to time. It's not easy being bipolar in a unipolar world; let's figure it out together.

4 thoughts on “Rock, Paper, Scissors

  1. Is there anyone in your household who would be a health risk if they shut off your electricity? Don’t know about where you live but here they legally have to keep the electricity on if shutting it off it poses a threat to someone in the household, paid or not. So sorry you are going through this…


    1. Thank you, but we don’t have anyone like that in our household. Neither of us qualifies. Nice thought, but we’ve already pushed our limits on all the utility bills and there are no more grace periods. It blows, but what are you gonna do.


      1. Sorry that it wasn’t relevant, I only mentioned it because I figured it couldn’t hurt to throw it out there just in case. Are there any community action agencies in your neck of the woods or anything? I really wish I could be of more help.


  2. Bless your heart, you’re being helpful. I just wish we did qualify for some help, but even at our severely reduced income we’re still considered too well off for it. It’s our lifestyle that’s killing us—we’re stuck in a middle-class life on a slightly-higher-than-poverty-level income. Trouble is, we can’t afford to move!! Oh well, it’s always something. LOL


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