I'm afraid today was a bit harrowing. Many of the things I planned on doing, I didn't do.
Today was an off day (I'm still working disability), so I had hoped to sleep in, but my cats had managed to nudge the door open and woke me up by throwing things off the dresser.
I love both of them (J. Catsby and Daisy Bucattan), but they can both be such selfish dicks sometimes.
I wanted to desperately to go back to sleep, but then I realized: today I got my bonus! I woke up quickly, logged into the computer, and quickly paid back Gabe for the past two months of rent and then applied the rest to my credit card.
In the course of 10 minutes I erased 48% of my debt.
Today was an off day (I'm still working disability), so I had hoped to sleep in, but my cats had managed to nudge the door open and woke me up by throwing things off the dresser.
I love both of them (J. Catsby and Daisy Bucattan), but they can both be such selfish dicks sometimes.
I wanted to desperately to go back to sleep, but then I realized: today I got my bonus! I woke up quickly, logged into the computer, and quickly paid back Gabe for the past two months of rent and then applied the rest to my credit card.
In the course of 10 minutes I erased 48% of my debt.
Naturally that feels pretty good, but there's unfortunately a lot left over. My 0% APR on my credit card expires in April; by then, I'll have had to have paid off my card or sell my stocks (which aren't coming anywhere a 12% return, my CC's APR) to bring the balance down to $0.
If disability kicks in, I'll be able to pay all of it off.
By "all of it," I mean "all of the debt I accrued while recovering from being raped." Co-pays from hospital and therapy visits made up a lot of it, in addition to eating out (haha having the energy to get out of bed, get dressed, or make food. Yeah right), and moving so much.
But that's what civil cases are for, right?
If disability kicks in, I'll be able to pay all of it off.
By "all of it," I mean "all of the debt I accrued while recovering from being raped." Co-pays from hospital and therapy visits made up a lot of it, in addition to eating out (haha having the energy to get out of bed, get dressed, or make food. Yeah right), and moving so much.
But that's what civil cases are for, right?
I'd need a day in court to make it there though.
At any rate, after I dealt with finances I attempted to go back to sleep, which really meant laying in bed praying for some shut eye for two hours. Fitbit recorded it as "restless." Understatement of the year.
This meant that by 9:30, when I actually got up, I was feeling lethargic as shit. I managed to shower, get dressed (all the way), and eat and log my food, but then bummed around until I absolutely needed to leave the house, which meant no shopping for clothes that fit.
I awkwardly walked through Hallmark trying to find my Mom an appropriate birthday card. I know what I would get her otherwise--what I'd get her if she hadn't been so dismissive at my mental hospital "family visit" that I asked her to leave, followed by the social worker insisting that I don't see my family for the time being because it would be "too stressful."
I wanted to get her this card. It reads:
Mom—
All through my life,
've known I could turn to you
to help me
think things through
or figure out
just what direction
was right for me.
(On the inside flap)
With your steady patience,
love, and understanding,
you've not only listened
and shared your advice,
but you've always reminded me
to be true to myself,
my values, and my dreams.
From the guidance you've offered
to the confidence and wisdom
that you've built in me,
you've made me stronger than you know…
but never too strong to need
a little help from my Mom.
Happy Birthday
Damned straight I choked up reading it. My Mom isn't perfect, but up until this moment that card summed up everything I felt about my Mom, especially right after I was attacked. She convinced me to go to the police station, make me comfort food and brought it over, and talked me through a lot of tough shit.
Now I don't have a relationship with her and am huffing over spending $25 in shipping for her $44 gift.
It's hard not to feel like a terrible daughter.
It's even harder not to have my family around this time of year.
This meant that by 9:30, when I actually got up, I was feeling lethargic as shit. I managed to shower, get dressed (all the way), and eat and log my food, but then bummed around until I absolutely needed to leave the house, which meant no shopping for clothes that fit.
I awkwardly walked through Hallmark trying to find my Mom an appropriate birthday card. I know what I would get her otherwise--what I'd get her if she hadn't been so dismissive at my mental hospital "family visit" that I asked her to leave, followed by the social worker insisting that I don't see my family for the time being because it would be "too stressful."
I wanted to get her this card. It reads:
Mom—
All through my life,
've known I could turn to you
to help me
think things through
or figure out
just what direction
was right for me.
(On the inside flap)
With your steady patience,
love, and understanding,
you've not only listened
and shared your advice,
but you've always reminded me
to be true to myself,
my values, and my dreams.
From the guidance you've offered
to the confidence and wisdom
that you've built in me,
you've made me stronger than you know…
but never too strong to need
a little help from my Mom.
Happy Birthday
Damned straight I choked up reading it. My Mom isn't perfect, but up until this moment that card summed up everything I felt about my Mom, especially right after I was attacked. She convinced me to go to the police station, make me comfort food and brought it over, and talked me through a lot of tough shit.
Now I don't have a relationship with her and am huffing over spending $25 in shipping for her $44 gift.
It's hard not to feel like a terrible daughter.
It's even harder not to have my family around this time of year.
After getting my Mom a casual "Happy Birthday, Mom!" card with an awkward "I love you. Sorry this is late" message (which really conveys little of how I actually feel about her in this moment) and shipped everything through FedEx, I went to therapy.
The long and the short of it is that my therapist wants me to hold back on going back to work until January 15, which sucks for two reasons:
1. I've told my employer that I want to come back the 28th of December
2. Going back to work full time affects my disability claim. I don't want to deal with it.
She says I'm still very obviously experiencing symptoms (no shit) and that she doesn't want me to exacerbate things with starting work too early. She's visiting Uruguay to see her family for the holidays and won't be able to monitor me for an earlier start date.
Fuck fuck fuck. I don't want to have this conversation with my job. I feel like a failure for not getting better quicker. I know the usual comparison is "do you blame people for not getting over cancer quickly?", but mental health doesn't quite work like that.
PTSD is not a brain infection that can be wiped away with a pill. It's a mind infestation comprised of your own thoughts. The stupid disease affects you mentally, spiritually, emotionally, and yeah, physically.
I hate it. I really hate it.
The long and the short of it is that my therapist wants me to hold back on going back to work until January 15, which sucks for two reasons:
1. I've told my employer that I want to come back the 28th of December
2. Going back to work full time affects my disability claim. I don't want to deal with it.
She says I'm still very obviously experiencing symptoms (no shit) and that she doesn't want me to exacerbate things with starting work too early. She's visiting Uruguay to see her family for the holidays and won't be able to monitor me for an earlier start date.
Fuck fuck fuck. I don't want to have this conversation with my job. I feel like a failure for not getting better quicker. I know the usual comparison is "do you blame people for not getting over cancer quickly?", but mental health doesn't quite work like that.
PTSD is not a brain infection that can be wiped away with a pill. It's a mind infestation comprised of your own thoughts. The stupid disease affects you mentally, spiritually, emotionally, and yeah, physically.
I hate it. I really hate it.
Tomorrow, I am going to get up and drink a Metagenics shake. I am going to get dressed and then go to work. I'll talk to my boss about the later start date and finish writing an article for the week after Christmas. I will try to leave early so I can stop by Marshall's to grab some clothes. I will also start working on a Mandala and pick out a Coursera class, then relax with my boyfriend and watch some wrestling.
xx
Amy
xx
Amy
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