I felt so terrible yesterday that I spent 85% of my day in bed. We had tickets to see a comedy show down the street, and Patton Oswalt was appearing. There was no way I could go. Rick was not upset, and the ten bucks we had spent on the ticket goes to a non profit, so no biggie.
Rick comes home from the show and is reluctant to show me pics. “Sweetie, I don’t want to upset you.” He said. “Just show me!” I said. So he did. Kumail Nanjiani popped in. Then Laura Kightlinger, who was supposed to appear last week, but cancelled, made up her missed appearance. I had been REALLLLLY excited to see her, so of course she appears when I am too sick to go. Patton Oswalt delivered a great set, and then the legend Marc Maron made a surprise appearance.
YUP. I was upset. I hid it from Rick, though.
Whatever I have had going on for YEARS robs me on a daily basis. It robbed me of the career I loved. It has robbed me of people I care about, It has robbed me SO MANY FUCKING TIMES of being able to experience just about any daily activities, events, visiting attractions like museums, conventions, etc.
I have to plan out errands. If I go to a store, I only have enough energy/pain tolerance to handle going to a place for what I absolutely NEED. There is no browsing. No window shopping. Thrifting is one of my all time favorite things to do, and I am unable to do that.
When I say that I am living a half life, sometimes it seems like less than that. Like a quarter life. I basically only speak to Rick. On Wednesdays, I get an hour with Lauren, my therapist. We have been working together for almost three years. At this point, I think we both care a great deal for the other. If I was not her client, we have said we’d be friends. Like most younger adults, my daughter only communicates when it suits her, or she needs advice. I suppose I should be happy that she still does that. At least I wasn’t so shitty as a mom that she had to go no contact.
While I am in complaining mode- let’s talk about “friends” who are NEVER available to hang out. I am there whenever anyone needs an ear, advice, help, etc. I will drop everything to help. “We should hang out!” They say. But every time I ask them to come out, meet up or whatever, “I have to look at my schedule.” “I don’t want to come ALLLLL THE WAY out to LA.” (They all live within 45 minutes of me.) Then I see them on social media, hanging out near me. So it ISN’T that they don’t have time, a ride… it’s me. Cool. Got it. I drop everything for you, but I am not the one you actually want to hang out with.
I have not told ANYONE but my therapist and my best friend about what is going on with my health. I don’t need or want feigned pity or empathy, or empty promises of help or companionship. I have not even told my daughter. My therapist would say, “Let people help you.” Here’s the problem… they’ll offer help, because that serves THEIR ego, but they’ll never actually follow through. My mental health cannot handle the disingenuous bullshit right now.
Be all in, or get all out. I don’t have the energy for half ass “friends” who are only around because I serve a purpose in their lives, without them having to lift a goddamn finger in mine. I am DONE. I’d rather deal with loneliness in therapy, than the heartbreak of rejection every time I extend myself and am ignored or shot down.
Enough of that.
A couple of days ago, I had an appointment with my psych and I thought he hadn’t refilled a needed medication. I looked at my CVS app to check when I last picked up this med, and it said I wasn’t due for a refill for another month. Ok, so I must have picked up and not remembered, and the bag was misplaced.
I told Rick about my quandary. “It’ll pop up.” he said.
That night, we were watching tv in the living room, and we heard something fall in the bedroom. We looked at each other and shrugged it off. I thought it was a cup that had fallen out of the dish drainer. No biggie.
Then last night, I happened to look at my bedside table, and there was a CVS bag with the prescription I needed. Just sitting there. I brought it to Rick’s attention, and he pretended to be scared and ran out of the room shrieking and waving his arms around.
Maybe the ghosts are my true friends. THEY care.
On the reselling front, it is ON FIRE. I am consistently selling video games and video game consoles. DAILY. Unfortunately, EVERY cent is going to bills.
Two days ago, we needed a couple of things- toilet paper, honey, cooking oil. Off to Dollar Tree. I had TWENTY dollars to get that, and then milk and coffee at Grocery Outlet. There was plenty more we would put on the back burner, because I have found I can do without A LOT. Living in a state of lack/survival for so long at various points throughout my life has taught me to get okay with not having what you WANT.
I left Dollar Tree feeling a little defeated. We bought two large single rolls of toilet paper, the honey and the oil. I desperately wanted a tall can of Pepsi, but I couldn’t justify the expense. I haven’t be able to send my best friend a birthday care package. I have not been able to send Zoe the cookbook I made for her. There will be no cutesy Easter baskets for the kids, no Easter dinner, unless the food pantry provides a donated ham.
At Grocery Outlet, there were SO MANY good deals. I had enough left to get a dozen eggs for .99, coffee creamer for 1.99, a box of Club crackers and a family size bulk box of fruit snacks for Rick’s son, both for .97. Coffee for 6.99.
I cried on the way home.
I am not sure how Rick got the money to pay rent. I am guessing he borrowed it from his mom and sister. I won’t ask. As long as it’s paid, I can’t care. I don’t want to fret about how we’re going to pay that 1800 back right now. Too many other, more pressing things to be anxious about.
He was contacted by the company he does gig work for. They need him to fly to Arizona over the holiday weekend to play with remote controlled sharks for some movie marketing. Super secret. So it’s work. But I will be alone for four days/three nights.
I am already making a list of all the things that could hurt me, or that I shouldn’t do if he’s not here. I guess I will be in bed the entire weekend. I don’t have anyone to call if I have an emergency. I asked Rick to talk to the husband of the complex manager, and ask if he could help if something terrible happens, lord forbid.
I am hoping Rick’s willingness to work will lead to MORE work with this company. They pay him almost 40 an hour, and his insurance could be reinstated. Because this is not sustainable.
ONE MORE WEEK until my follow up with my rheumatologist.
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