And now it begins: The enormity of what I’ve lost, am losing, and am about to lose is beginning to crash in on me, and it’s staggering.
My unemployment benefits are running out. I can’t find a “real” job. Will’s Social Security isn’t enough to get us into even a small apartment, ergo, that means we are going to be homeless, literally, within a month. We have no place to go. That is freaking SCARY. Thank God our car is paid off and insured, otherwise we’d be SOL with fall and winter coming on. I hate the idea of telling the kids, but we’ll have to have our mail sent to somebody’s address, and one of theirs is the logical choice. And I’ll have to have somewhere to go to write my blog and my articles for the nursing website…..maybe our son will let me use his home computer a couple of times a week.
This is NOT a bid for sympathy or a cry for help. I’m just astounded at how far (and how fast) human beings can fall when the rug gets pulled out from under them. I’ve never gotten this close to being out of options before, and I don’t know how to behave. And it galls me that all this is happening because I have this stupid mental illness that makes it so damned difficult for me to function in the working world, even with great care and an even better support system.
Of course, the one I really feel awful for is Will. He doesn’t deserve this. I don’t deserve it either, but I can’t help feeling it’s all my fault. It’s not his cancer that’s driving us out of our home and turning life into a waking nightmare. It wouldn’t be so bad, and I wouldn’t feel nearly as guilty, if I were in this by myself. But bless his heart, he’s not going anywhere unless it’s with me…..even if “home” is a parking space behind the strip mall.
I don’t know how to do this. Dear God, the problems…..What to do with the pets? Can we afford to rent a storage facility where we can at least put our stuff? And it kills my soul to have to do it, but we’ll have to apply for food stamps and medical assistance when my unemployment benefits are gone. Still, that doesn’t help us with a place to live, and Heaven only knows when—or if—my SSDI case will be approved. It’ll probably be next year before they even look at it.
So things are looking pretty shitty right now, and I’m doing my best NOT to freak out because if I do, all hell will break loose. Last night my stress level was so high that I asked Will for an Ativan, which I hadn’t taken in months, because I knew I’d lie awake till the wee hours and we all know what happens when I don’t sleep. I’m not depressed—of that I am certain—but I am anxious and agitated, and when you couple that with the load of guilt I’m carrying, well, you can probably understand why I’m not having a good time.
What a fine mess I’ve gotten us into. It’s not the end of the world, but I can see it from here, and the view is one that scares the hell out of me.