Oh NO! No Paxil, NO Neurontin again

I ran out again with no money to pay for anything. I was approved for Medicaid last week, but they are awaiting two pieces of paper, so I am not active in the system, and my private insurance was already cancelled. AAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHH. I was very anxious just thinking about what happened to me in October with withdrawal. I tried to get a 30 day supply with a coupon to get it free, but my doctor hasn't answered me, even as of today (I just called). So, right now I have gotten a week's supply of both for $30 to tide me over. I paid for it myself. Never a dull moment in cripville. I went away overnight to a friend's who is very funny, and she made me laugh alot, thank god. I was getting depressed again. I feel like my life is two steps forward, one step back, financially. No filling in for the school for two weeks now. No paycheck from them yet. No Disability benefits, no unemployment, But, I still have a roof over my head and a vehicle that runs. I can be grateful for that, and I am. I have been sober now, no drinks for 75 days (this time).

Neurological Poetry

Here's a couple more poems related to my disability. I have been told these are my best (the ones about my disability) because my heart is in them.


If I Were a Word

On the clean white page
At first glance you’d think you knew me
Monosyllabic, straightforward.

But upon closer examination
You would see dyslexia
Letters in reverse.

And when you gaze upon the lines and circles of me
Letters would bob up and down
On the horizon.

If you uttered me out loud
Your pronunciation would fracture
Like clashing notes
On a discordant scale.

Dissecting my phenomes
Will not help you label:
Noun, verb or adjective,
But if you must
Go with gerund.

Once you have stored me
In your linguistic lexicon
Will be afflicted with anomia
For I will have wormed my way into your cortex
Burrowing deep into Wernicke and Broca.


Neural Auras

Go tell tell Theresa of Avila
To tell Jean D’Arc to tell
Hildegarde that
Pablo has been here.
Rearranging photos
Again.
Why else
Would that dog
Have his wide smiling mouth
On the side of his head
Like a pink glistening wound?
There’s a small cobalt spot
Blinking off and on
In my right eye,
And here’s a lovely
Gold firecracker burst.
At night ghosts
Float and dance
In my headlights
And I slam on my brakes
For what really isn’t there.

There's more where that came from, if anyone is looking and likes them!

One of my poems--actually one of my favorites!!

Fighting with Frida

She offered me Tequila.
I declined,
I can’t hold my liquor.

We launched in without ado.
I was born dead, what more do you want?

What they did to me was unspeakable.
I was held up with steel,
Cut and braced, the pain was extreme she sneered.

Doctor tied me up and hung me
With weights and pulleys,
I screamed when he forced me.

Operated on without anesthesia
Plastered in casts for months,
They even withheld morphine.

You are wasted I said.
Besides they left me to bleed
Through stitches for days.

She threw Tequila in my face:
They cut off my head and
Sewed it back on!

They ripped out my beating heart
And held it aloft, I cried!

They made me eat my aborted fetus
She wailed.

We pull hair and scratch faces.
Bitch! She bellowed.
She hit me with her steel brace,
I knocked her silly with my crutch.

Get out of my life, I said.
Until we meet again tomorrow.


People have told me it is hard to know who is talking to who in this poem. I know that it is true--hard to tell, but it is a poem of one upmanship. I was the one born dead who starts off the poem. Enjoy!

Worked last week!!

I actually worked 3 days last week as a Special Ed aid!! I really enjoyed it too. The kids were cute (for the most part) but they aren't always. I swear they have invented new rules for reading and math (new terms) that I am not familiar with. It was hard too--more walking than I anticipated, standing too. I got out the crutches. Luckily they did not bother my shoulders the way I was afraid they would. I also tolerated the walking and standing alot more than I anticipated. Thank God I kept up with my exercises. All in all I had a good week, although there was some sadness I didn't expect--I was reminded of the isolation I felt growing up not being able to keep up with my class, and being the most disabled student in my school. It also reminded me that when I was first in school, I was very anxious. I don't know if it was social anxiety or if I was afraid to leave my mother. Who the hell knows.

Must be boring, or too full of self pity, or depressing

I was just reading some other blogs. I hardly have had any comments to mine. I guess it must be boring, too full of self-pity (of which I have too much) and too depressing. I should start to post some poetry. I don't know much about computers, hence I do not have pictures here, or any other interesting things to share. It is really just my rant about my life.
But, you know, it allows me to let it all hang out without censoring my thoughts, because I am anonymous. I still sometimes censor myself in my hand written journal in the fear that I will die tomorrow and my family will find it. Really, if you knew me in person you would not recognize the person who writes this, because on the outside I smile and laugh alot and appear upbeat most of the time. That is my persona on the stage of life. The great divide, the schizophrenic mind, the split personality between outer and inner. The Pollyanna that I was raised to be vs. the self-centered spoiled crippled kid who hates life because of my fate.

Denied!

I was officially denied Social Security benefits today, now I must appeal. This whole situation really feels like a circus. Yesterday and the day before I was so depressed about my situation and today I woke up in such a different frame of mind for no reason I can pinpoint, but it is a good thing. I could not have tolerated this rejection yesterday. Today, well, today is today. I woke up feeling good, and the sun was out. I filled out a job application for a day care center, and they were willing to have me come in for a "trial" with the kids to see how I do, but the pay was so poor, and besides the place was dingy, and smelled of urine. I didn't get a good feel there. So, no go even though I am desperate. I feel guilty but what good would it do to work in a situation I am not comfortable with that pays so poorly? So, more applying. Now I am applying for a part time reporter's job for my local paper. I don't have the experience writing for a paper, but my writing skills are good. We'll see. There is so much to worry about I can't even respond anymore emotionally. I think this means I am numb.

The Sun is Out!

The sun is out here today in Southern NH, thank god. I have volunteer work to do today, but I just found out that a job I applied for is already being filled, so it must have been an insider to take it. I am in a panic about my unemployment situation. I actually got a response from someone here about being a phone sex operator, and I tell you if I were that kind of woman (which I am not) I would do it, and make big bucks! I am waiting to hear about my appeal for unemployment. I think I am going to win, but who the hell knows? I got a call from the Social Security Disability people yesterday asking me about whether I met with clients in my last two jobs. That puzzles me. Why would they want to know that? Probably they want to know or think I am a therapist, and can continue to do that, but that is not the case. I was awakened by this woman and was not in my right mind. I wish I had been thinking more clearly. She said I would have a decision in a few weeks. This waiting game is very anxiety provoking.