Ups & Downs, Failure, and I Just Don't Care Anymore

I'm a mess right now.

I don't know what's going on.  (Well, I know part of what's going on, which is that I'm out of Lithium and have been for a few days.  Not my fault--initially it was a money thing and once I had the money, the pharmacy was all blah blah blah we need more time to fill it.  Hopefully tomorrow).

I feel like a failure.  I feel like I have failed at everything I've tried to do.  I got a degree, and all I have to show for it is a shitload of student loan debt that I'll never be able to pay off.  This December marks 5 years--half a decade--since I graduated college, and in the time since, I've worked as a retail slave and a receptionist.  Beyond.not.worth.it.  I've been talking about losing weight and getting in shape for years but I can't do it.  Plain and simple, I can't.

My credit's shot and has been for a long time, and Corey didn't hesitate to point out that he was afraid to marry me because of it.  My mental health is never going to be really stable because every time I start to get stable something goes wrong.  I CANNOT AFFORD MEDICAL TREATMENT.  Plain and simple, but does my doctor understand that?  No.  And why would he?  He probably makes more a year than I have in my entire life.  You'd think that when you pay someone as much as I've paid him you'd at least get a little understanding--because the reality is, I can't afford it.  I can't afford $60 for medication and $125 for appointments and $180 for lab work, I just can't.  Even when I was still at Hastings I couldn't afford it.  So I'll do better for a month and then bam, I can't afford a refill, and it goes to shit.  It pisses me off that doctors don't understand that financial problems are REAL.  It pisses me off that I live in a state that says women are only worth helping if they've popped a kid out of their vagina.  That's true, in AZ, you only qualify for state insurance if you have a child, which frankly is BS.  And I know that to most women childbirth is a lot more than just popping the kid out--but the women I know who are on AHCCCS, for the most part, did just that. My drug addicted cousin developed a seizure disorder and had neurosurgery, courtesy of the state of AZ--just because she accidentally had a kid.  A friend from HS literally does not know which of 3 men is the father of her child, but she gets free healthcare.  Meanwhile, I'm intelligent, and educated, and driven, and not a slut, but I have to suffer.  Bull.shit.

I'm scared, because I honestly don't know what my future is.  Will I ever make enough money to support myself?  Will I ever actually use my degree?  Will I ever get out of debt?

I'm sick of everything.  I have no drive left.  I can barely get out of bed lately.  Showering is a chore.  My laundry's not done, and I've stopped caring that I only own one pair of pants.  I'm sick of feeling guilty over everything that's happened between me and Jerbs.  I'm sick of eye strain headaches that come from needing glasses but not having the money to go to an eye doctor.  I'm sick of tooth pain, but I definitely can't afford a dentist.  I'm sick of waking up on a deflated air mattress with every muscle in my body screaming.  I'm sick of thinking about how Corey is back in MY hometown thriving doing things that made ME happy that were MINE first.

That life that I like to imagine where I'm happy and healthy and successful?  Never going to happen.  Just a fact.  I'm apparently not destined for anything past this.

I'm angry at the people who put me here.  I don't talk about it on here, and I probably never will in detail, but the reason I'm mentally ill goes back to when I was a very small child, when two people who my parents trusted with my well being chose to act on their own disgusting, selfish desires instead of my well being.  My life ended the second they did that.  Once those things happened, I never had a chance at a normal life.  Ever.

And I'm angry with Corey, for making believe it could be better--that I could be better--and then breaking my heart instead.  For making me think that love actually did exist and that I was worthy of it, and then sending me back to the same place I was before, so that HE could be happy.

I haven't wanted to kill myself in a long time--or at least, I haven't seen suicide as a viable option for a long time.  And I still don't.  I don't want to die.  But I don't want to live this life, and I feel completely powerless to change it.

(I'm struggling to stay optimistic even with all the BS . . . I really am.  I just needed to vent before I exploded.  Besides, once I have my prescription for a few days this might all just be for nothing).