…the twilight of my life, pt. 2…

It’s been a month since I was able to post. My health has taken a serious downturn. I am now facing packing and cleaning my apartment, moving 1500 miles to my island home and trying to find the money to pay for it. My landlady is harassing me on a daily basis. My anxiety levels have never been higher…

The trip was originally booked to go back for my son’s wedding, but the latest news from the (questionable) ‘medical professionals’ is not good. After 12 years of denying me the tests that would monitor my Frontotemporal lobar degeneration they have now (without the requisite PET scan or MRI) suggested that I may be in the advanced stages. Having waited 21 months they now inform me I would have to wait a minimum of 11 more months for test…then with no compassion whatsoever, the neurologist coldly informed me “but you may very well be severely disabled by that time”.

I have no support system here in my adopted home. I have been ostracized by my former friends due to my ex’s efforts (she has Borderline Personality Disorder and won’t go for treatment, the government and it’s supporting bureaucracy are unresponsive to requests for support, I have been denied social assistance and have little hope of a disability pension. My landlady is NPD and harassing me on a daily basis. So, I return to the poorest region of our nation to live out the remainder of my miserable existence in poverty and regret.

I hope I get to post again…

…another weekend…

Not in this world this weekend. Let me explain.

When anxiety levels get high, some of us dissociate. That’s me, all over. The longer I have multiple serious stressors in my life, the more frequent and severe the dissociation becomes. It isn’t getting any better.

Yesterday I had my intake appointment at the ‘last chance’ free therapy clinic. The director was very nice, welcoming and not at all intimidating. All very nice, but they are staffed social work interns, not psychology students. There’s no CBT, no DBT, no EMDR, none of the psychotherapeutic tools used to treat C-PTSD.

I came out of the intake meeting resolving to try, but despondent about never being told about this free clinic after ten years of searching for resources and that this well-meaning but ultimately, I suspect, ineffectual group. Blindly ran the errands that were necessary (don’t like to be out of my flat). Since then been managing to takes my meds and my insulin but all as if someone else were doing it and I was watching.

Not being able to talk to anyone makes it ten times worse…

AnimatedChaosphere