As life always is, it is intruding on my writing time, my alone time, and much of my creative time since R died. Don’t misunderstand, I’m just stating the facts, not complaining, I am happy to make adjustments and sacrifices to accommodate Mom. She’s a good woman, who never said an unkind word that I heard. She loved all her children, and ached when they were hurting. I see my future and that’s hard, but it’s maybe a lesson I needed to learn.
But this post is about time. Sorry for being sporadic lately, and thank you for your patience and understanding. Mom is visiting friends this weekend and so I have some time alone to read all your blogs and try to catch up on what everyone is doing. I’m going down my list and am still catching up.
Life continues no matter how hard I try to stop it. I called my bank about we weren’t going to be able to make our mortgage payment. I’m waiting for someone to call me back. I just spent $800 fixing Son’s car. I finally said “screw it, put it on the credit card” and a good thing too. With Mom here we are doing a lot more driving around, and having another good-running car will be mighty handy as timing can be tricky sharing a car.
I’ve prepared my SSDI appeal papers and now need to find a good, honest lawyer to help me. Then contact someone about the rest of our debt, while I wait for a year for my appeal hearing. Learning to live without an oven (the door just won’t stay fixed). Sometimes I wonder what I did in my last life, or as I interpret reincarnation, wonder what my father do to put this on me? I believe (somewhat) that we carry the sins of our forefathers.
Sorry, I’m sort of all over the place tonight. There is just so much going on, that I don’t even realize until I start to list it: get death certificates, send forms to VA re Pension, Same to Social Security to transfer benefits. Turn off all the utilities. I’ve got to find each one and contact them. Right now it seems an insurmountable task. This used to be everyday at work for me. Doing 20 things at once, making snap decisions. Now I’m afraid to schedule an appointment with the cable TV guy for fear there’s a reason the date I just committed to won’t work.
I’m trying to kick my butt into gear and start doing the things that come naturally to me: organize, prioritize, research, and lots of phone calls. I’ve been sitting here for more than a year, and what do I have to show for it? No income, and a blog with less than 200 followers (not that I don’t appreciate each one!) I feel like I’m wasting my life, but so far I’m unable to change. I’m not that strong woman at home. At home I am vulnerable and easily satisfied. I like reading quietly before I go to bed at night–so, I read for 4 hours before bed isn’t the point! I should dress in my work clothes and start marching up to managers and demand a job, just like the perky girls did in those old movies. I rehearse my lines for when I get before a judge: Why must I be immobile in a wheel chair before you can declare me disabled. If I’m supposed to be fit enough to take a job as ticket taker, sure maybe I could do that job, but we will never know, because I don’t have experience with “menial” work like those of a concession stand at the movie theatre. I’ve applied- no experience, and too many other unemployed kids who know cash registers and movie theater ethics.
What does the judge know about the days I pee myself, days my legs feel like lead pillars, there are days I feel terrific, but there is not a day, not an hour goes by my mind doesn’t affect me. From forgetting to set the alarm, to leaving the stove on. As simple as forgetting something at the grocery store, to forgetting which car I drove to the grocery store. There is not a day goes by my memory plays with me. I have to ask my husband did thus and so happen? No? Then it must’ve been a dream. I can’t trust myself to remember anything. I failed, miserably, tests for jobs in my normal field, which you have declared me completely fit for. Do you have any idea how hard life already is for someone disabled to get by. I can’t get a job in my field, and I can’t (apparently) learn anything new. At least it’s much more difficult for me. Talk to people I worked with my last year. They can tell you. Can I call witnesses?
I’m trying to take a break from it all, but it all keeps intruding on my desire to be completely inert. Is this a new level of depression? Should I be worried? Am I being melo-dramatic?