Every fear, every disappointment, every angry thought... They get heaped on my heart one after another until I'm staggering under their weight. Until recently I think there was still an element of disbelief. This couldn't be happening to ME. Not me. This is someone else's life, not mine. Through all the tests, diagnoses, misdiagnoses, arguments, concessions... I was determined to grit my teeth and get back to living my REAL life as soon as possible.
The thing that brought me to my knees was the internet bill.
Phil casually mentioned the internet was going to be shut off for lack of payment. It threw me off guard: what do you mean, lack of payment? Why don't you pay it? That would keep it from being shut off, right? It didn't sink in that what he meant was we couldn't afford to pay it. We can't pay for my prescriptions, mortgage, utilities, food and gas, let alone doctor's bills... And his decision was to let the internet go and get caught up with his next pay check.
No. I couldn't accept it, fought the implications. We are not the family who has to choose between medicine and food, doctors bills or phone service. That happens to poor people, old people. We both have good jobs with decent medical insurance! How on earth could my hard-working family have to choose which services get shut off because we can't afford to pay them? This isn't right!
I have noticed I'm withdrawing more and more from everyone, everything. Stopped reaching out to support systems. Stopped painting. Stopped leaving the bedroom for long periods of time. Phil asked if I was depressed. My response was, "Are you crazy? Of course not!"
Now I'm resigned. Everything is out of my control. I keep asking Phil if things will ever get better. He says they will, we just have to keep going.
How long? Someone said to me, "At least it's only been four months, not four years."
That's the problem. I don't know if it will be a few more months, or a few years, or a few decades... Or if I'll never get better.
It's no wonder I'm depressed.
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