This is the face of mental illness, I suppose.
Last February I had my hours at the job where I had worked for over 9 years cut from full to part time due to being unreliable as a result of needing psych hospitalizations with no warning and with no word when I’d be back. With this, too, went my work-funded health insurance. Less money, more bills.
In June, I had to leave my job completely in order to attend 5-day-a-week day hospitalization for my depression and PTSD. Since then, I’ve had no income. I’ve spent 7 weeks total locked in the inpatient ward. I’ve been living off my dwindling savings and credit cards (bad move).
I did get a part time job in a library, briefly, but lost the position when I ended up back inpatient for 3 1/2 weeks.
Finally, a few weeks ago, I got what I thought was terrific news– the house that I panic moved out of several years ago finally had a prospective buyer. His offer was less than what I owed on my home equity loan, but I figured that would be fine. What I didn’t realize at the time was that the loan was against the house that I am selling, not the home I live in.
It has to be paid in full in order to sell the house. I cannot get a replacement loan against the home that I do live in because I have no job and have not yet qualified for disability.
So I need to come to the table with $12,000 that I straight up do not have.
I can get $5600 in a cash advance off a credit card at 25% interest, but even if I do that, I have no way to come up with the rest of it. I don’t know what to do.
It is taking so much for me to just keep treading water, just to keep from drowning, and now what was supposed to be a huge weight off my shoulders is instead a disaster. All I want to do is give up. Walk away from life. I cannot afford to sell a freaking house. I cannot afford to exist anymore.
My dear friend showed up yesterday with two bags of groceries for me. I was so grateful and so ashamed.
I should be better than this. I should be self-sufficient. I should be able to work and pay my bills. I shouldn’t need to depend on anybody, I shouldn’t need handouts.
I cannot do it.
I am so broken right now.
At the urging of both my therapist and a good friend, I started a GoFundMe account. A good exercise in letting go of pride, right? A good lesson in how to ask for help, how to accept grace.
So I am putting it here. If you feel moved to donate, you have my endless thanks. If you can share it with your friends, I’d be deeply thankful also. If all you’ve got is a few words of encouragement, hell I could use those to.
Repeat after me: I am doing the best that I can. That will have to be enough, because it’s all I’ve got.