They Do Help

I'm onto season 4 of Prison Break.

Hottness.

I've fallen through the cracks in the Mental Health Care System. Backlisted, waitlisted, and not taken seriously.

I spoke with the Dr yesterday who originally saw me when I came into town. He upped my med dosage to the max. He offered to help me find a good therapist, but they would all be sliding fee. He offered to help me fill out my EI forms. He also made it his priority to ensure I get an income and not go to work right now.

Good Dr.

I'm passing the time chatting up a storm online. Makes for a good laugh every now and then.

I'm drinking like a fish, but havin fun the safe way.

I've not touched any drugs, which is a miracle in itself. Loong time ago I was an addict, and I know now if I touch it once I'll get hooked again.

I'm here. Still. I'm alive.

The Only Way I Know How

I watched the sunrise this morning. It's a beautiful thing.

I've been watching Prison Break on Netflix.

I've been thinking about my life, about the life I thought I had, and how it was all just a lie. How stupid I was, how I tried so hard to have faith in the good. How often I struggled to believe the power of positivity. How I tried to believe that this was all for a reason.

I don't believe this was for a reason. I believe bad things can happen to good people.

I've done a lot of wrong, I've said a lot of things. I've been my worst, and my time for judgement has come to pass.

I am getting exactly what I deserve.

I am without my children, and probably will be for the rest of my life. I am drinking, I am smoking, and I am wallowing.

I've reached out for help, and have been turned away from every agency I reached out to. Waitlisted, and backscheduled. I've been told that I'm not a priority.

I was hospitalized in June because I wanted to commit suicide. When I explained this to my intake workers, they gave me a slip of paper with steps to take if I felt like self-harm. When I called those numbers they offered, I was told I'd be placed on the list.

So here I am, watching the sunrise, reaching out to emptiness, and fucking it up the only way I know how cause ain't nobody gonna pull me outta this one.

Hitting Bottom

I'm fishing round on the bottom. I'm here, but I feel lost.

"What am I sposed to say when I'm all chocked up but you're ok? I'm falling to pieces" - Breakeven - The Script

What am I looking for? What am I here for? Is there a purpose in my suffering?

I'm here, I'm reaching but I don't know what for. Am I reaching for help and salvation? Am I reaching for trouble and danger?

I'm a kid again. I'm lost, and I accept help from the first person who offers it, only they're not interested in helping. I'm exploited again because I'm trusting, because I'm hoping.

I need to believe that there's someone who will help me, I just have to find them first.

I feel like I'm stuck, and that I'm going to be stuck here forever. Doomed to relive this cycle over and over. Never change, never grow, never move on.

I don't want to feel. Emotional torture.

"I'm so afraid of waking, please don't shake me" - So Far Away - Staind

I want honesty, I want faith, I want trust.

Netflix Addiction

I've been trying to move. It's not working so well.

My bed has my permanent imprint, my laptop has been set to Netflix for 3 days now, and I've watched everything under the sun. Under the moon too.

My sleeping schedule is all messed up. I can't remember to eat, and I'm confused when my body sends me signals that I'm hungry.

I think it's safe to say that I need to make some phone calls today.

We had the conversatin with the kids. I had to cut my time with them shorter by a day. I simply couldn't

tolerate the stress. I know they were disappointed. I feel like I keep hitting setbacks. I'm wondering when this feeling will end. The feeling that I have that says life would be so much better if I weren't in it. All these waiting lists and "we'll call you back" feel just like a slap in the face. It may be that I need a pick-me-up. It may be that I just need someone to care. It may be that I'm just lonely. It may be a lot of things, but I'm feeling like no one wants to help me out here. Maybe I'm just feeling sorry for myself, maybe I'm just surviving the best way I know how.

I'm Still Here

I'm feeling a little discouraged today.

I want to enroll for a Human Services Diploma program. 2 years at whatever institution. The problem is the place I'm applying to no longer has it open, bummer. I guess that means I'll hafta do some searching around here in the Okanagan for other institutions that have the program available as well. My first two choices are out the window, which has me a bit bummed out.

I've been waiting for a counsellor to phone me regarding assault. After I did my intake they said to expect a phone call within a week to set up my first appointment. Called and left a message that I had to yet to receive this call, and when they returned it they stated that I've been wait-listed because it was not within the recent past, but months ago. The lady stated that it could take months to 1 year to be eligable for services through their organization and that 1-1 servicves were available on a sliding fee scale. On their upside I've been scheduled to begin a 6 month program with them that starts in September. Joy.

The kids are coming for a visit this weekend. I'm apprehensive because that conversation is going to be had. The conversation where we inform them that we're separating. Fuck. I wish that I could just have a calm time where I can centre myself. I can figure out what I don't want to do, but placing my finger on what I WANT is confusing me quite a bit.

I rather feel that just as I'm starting to get my feet under me they get swept right back out. Like I'm not being given a chance to get what I need. It's frustrating. It's not fair. I want to stomp my feet and scream. Instead, I'll go light up a cigarette, grab a glass of water, and figure out what my next step is. Keep chugging along, and hope that something will eventually work out. Hope that it is sooner, rather than later. Try not to feel overwhelmed, and focus on one small step, the one directly in front of me rather than behind me.

I wish someone would hug me, hold me, and tell me it's going to be alright. I wish someone could comfort me. I wish I had more concrete support. The reality is that I don't. The reality is that I'm alone in this, and I have no one but myself to rely on. And just like every other time in my life, it's up to me to pick up the baggase and move on.

Fuck you world, cause I'm still here.

Long Weekend

I'm lost. One day I gain sight, one day I lose sight. I have an idea of what I'm doing, and I know when harm is in my path. My choices are clear, but I'm afraid to make them.

I've finished taking a 10 day program for coping skills, and have received a referral to both an anxiety group and 1-1 counselling for my depression, as well as done an intake for counselling surrounding assault.

It was a long weekend. I couldn't bring myself to celebrate Canada Day because I didn't have my kids with me. I didn't go out and enjoy all of the festivities that were available, or watch the fireworks, or visit the fair. I couldn't. I faced the fact that I couldn't bear to watch happy families. Instead, I joined a friend for a BBQ with some of the most amazing home-cooked food I've ever tasted in my entire life, watched some movies & had a sleepover.

Right now I'm focusing on turning my bedroom into my haven of security. It's a small project, it's within my means, and it's something to keep me focusing on the here and now.

I've lost weight, though I'mj unsure how. I've purchased a bus pass for this month on the local transit, and really have begun to enjoy riding the busses here, despite the fact that it takes hours for me to get home when I do take them.

Life is moving, slowly but surely. I'm curious where it'll take me.