The “What If?” game

It’s a game we all play. A game where we dwell on the past and wonder “What if things were different?” I am an expert on this game.

Today is Mother’s Day. This day is NOT my thing. As I have said earlier, my mom died when I was seven. I constantly think about what would have happened if she hadn’t died. Where would I be? Would I be a more stable person?

It has plagued me for years.

“It does not to dwell on dreams and forget to live”

-Dumbledore

I try not to fixate on it. Instead, I think of all I have right now. I live in Texas, which has been my dream since I was young. I have the most amazing best friend, whom I don’t know how I would live without.

While I miss her, there is nothing I can do to get her back. Why dwell on what could have been? It does no good. You can’t change past events, so you live AND celebrate the life you have now.

Depression and all that good stuff

So I entered into a good ole depression!! What a great time, she says sarcastically. I lost my insurance about a week ago. I am trying to get that whole mess figured out. Until j have insurance, I have ceased therapy. I can’t pay out of pocket.

So here I am. I applied for insurance through an alternative company and sent off the check for the first payment. they informed me that it will tale 3 to 5 days to become active.

I have a weeks worth of meds left.

I’m sure you can do the math.

It’s Thursday evening, meaning my Sent check will go out tomorrow. The company will most likely (fingers crossed) receive it in Monday. even with the shortest time to process (3 days) it would be Thursday. Meaning I could get a refill on my meds, no problem. Say it takes five days, well because if the weekend, that will be 3 days without the meds.

Because I take effexor xr, the withdraws are nasty. I feel it almost immediately. Three days (of working mind you) without the meds would be atrocious.

I haven’t even begun to talk about the cost of the insurance. That’s another stressor I do not need.

I just want to get better. It’s almost like life doesn’t want me to.

I don’t like soap boxes, but I despise the state if affairs where people who desperately need medicine cannot afford it because of lack of insurance.
It seems like you can only take care of yourself if you are a well to do person.

So here I am. Laying in my bed. I don’t know when I will get up… Probably for work tomorrow. I don’t know what I’ll eat next ( I have to ration my food in order to pay for insurance and any money I have extra needs to go to bills and to pay for gas so I can get to work).

Who knows…

The feeling of failure

I’m back living in my childhood home. It’s definitely an odd feeling. A lot of the anxiety I felt back in the day is still tangible here. Other than the occasional disagreement with my father, things are going well. I really enjoy spending time with my brother and my dogs.

What has really been throwing me off is work. I transferred to the Starbucks here. I have been working for the bucks for 3 years. I usually enjoy it. I’m not sure if it is everything that is going on, but I have been struggling at work. I constantly feel like I am never good enough.  I feel that everyday I am waiting to be fired. One day my boss will have enough and straight up fire me.

I had a freak out attack the other Saturday. I ended up, in the midst of an anxiety attack no less, confessing to my boss that I had bipolar disorder. Great. I don’t want to perpetuate the stereotype of the “bipolarness”. It is so misunderstood. Heck, I don’t even understand. Since that attack I feel that people are walking around on eggshells and constantly looking at me with pity.

Ugh.

There is almost nothing I hate more than pity. This is definitely something I have been working on in therapy. Where is the line between sympathy and pity? Does anyone know? I sure don’t.

The issue is that I go home a majority of the days feeling like I am worthless. Utterly worthless. The reason I came home is try to get my life together. The situation at work is most certainly not helping.

Has anyone ever had to tell a boss/ coworkers that they had a mental illness? I think it is important.

I don’t know.