I've been battling depression all my life - literally, since I was a little girl, although it went unremarked and disbelieved then, back in the days when everyone believed that children had no stress and nothing to worry about. Then, as now, I had plenty to be depressed about, and there was no help for me anywhere, and I was taught to ask for nothing. About 4 years ago, when I started the job before this one and got really good health benefits, I got on anti-depressants for the first time in my life. It didn't make life stop sucking, but at least I could deal with it calmly.
Last year, when I got laid off, the benefits (obviously) stopped. No way could I afford COBRA and also pay my honey's meds out of pocket and wait for reimbursement, though I tried for a couple of months. Try paying rent, meds (do you know what Oxycontin costs? I do), COBRA, plus all the other normal operating expenses (food, transit, utilities, etc.) on an unemployment check that barely exceeds rent. So I went off my meds, figuring I could tough it out for a few months, and honey and I picked the most essential of her meds, and tried to get by. All we really managed to do wasget farther and farther behind - on everything.
Right before the winter holidays, I started a new job - better than unemployment by a long shot, but about 20% less than my previous job, and certainly not enough to get caught up yet, especially since I was still paying honey's meds out of pocket in amounts that approach that of rent.
This month, the benefits at my new job finally kick in, and we're down to reasonable co-pays on things. Not as good as the benefits I had at the old job, but better then out-of-pocket by a long shot. But also this month, I started getting tagged for back taxes in a roughly equivalent amount. So I'm still behind, and gonna be that way for the rest of the summer. My preliminary estimate is that the last of those payments will be in September.
Meanwhile, the landlord has finally lost patience with my pleading and paying late every month. I have until the end of this month to come up with this month's rent ($1205 including late fee), and I have to pay next month's rent no later than May 5th - no excuses, no lenience, no nothing. Right this minute, I have no idea how I'm going to come up with it. Every week, I'm paying the past-due balance on some bill or other (while setting aside whole flocks of dunning notices), or buying meds, or groceries, or transit or something equally frivolous and extravagant. I've had to back out of my commitment to help host the scholarship awards dinner (of which organization I'm co-chair), because I can't even pretend that I can afford the costs of attending it.
I've tried contacting several agencies to see if I can get some help, at least with the current rent crisis, but - not surprisingly - they are no help to me at all. I say not surprisingly because it's typical of my life. I can't get any help because either it's not available when I need it or it is available but I don't qualify.
I wish I could say that my current situation is unusual, but it's actually quite typical of my adult life. I've never been able to get ahead. The closest I've ever managed to get to making ends meet is getting them within hailing distance. Every time they get close enough that I start to think that this time I'll catch up to break-even status something happens - a new expense, the loss of a job, frequently both at once - and I find myself wishing I could just get the ends to maybe email or phone each other. All my life, the light at the end of the tunnel has consistently turned out to be the headlamp of an oncoming train.
Which brings me to the spiritual crisis. Despite all the crap I've been through (which included spending my childhood and adolescence being abused in every possible way by my stepfather while my mother both expected me to be perfect and denied the abuse was happening (which she still does, btw)), I maintained my belief in a benevolent Deity. I considered my spiritual person, and even spent years as a practicing shaman-teacher-healer-guide-counselor; although, unlike many such practitioners, I never could figure out a way to get paid for my services that felt honorable to me. I figured that all my suffering was redeemed in my ability to relate to those I was helping, thus furthering my ability to help them. I continued to believe that the Deity was essentially benevolent. I'd observe that I always got what I needed - mind you, not one scrap more nor one second sooner than absolutely necessary to drag my sorry ass just that fraction of an inch back from the edge of utter disaster - so I believed, and blamed my panic about the crumbling cliff edge on a shortage of faith on my part. I thought that maybe if I just kept believing that the Deity wouldn't really let mefall, then maybe I'd be allowed to walk on firmer footing.
That hope has never yet been fulfilled, and I have recently come to the conclusion that it never will. I feel that I have suffered enough in the nearly five decades I've spent on this planet that even if the rest of my life went swimmingly from here on out, I'll never forget how it feels to go through this crap. I'll never lose the ability to relate to others who are going through it - I could still help people. Hell, if I could quit worrying about having enough to keep a roof over me and mine, it would be easier for me to help others. I know this, because whenever I've had even a little to share, I've done so. I can't believe that I'd quit doing so, just because I had more to share.
Therefore, I find myself facing two semi-opposing alternatives to my belief in a benevolent Deity (which is almost completely gone):
- There is no Deity, no higher power, and therefore no reason for my suffering, or
- The Deity which has pretended benevolence only to the degree necessary to keep my hopes up is in reality a sadistic bastard who tortures me for no reason other than It's own sick pleasure.
If you're still reading this, and are by some chance inclined to contribute to the Lady Cat Emergency Relief Fund (aka the Keep Lady Cat Out Of Debtor's Prison Fund), you can Paypal your donations to the email address in my profile.
If you are instead inclined to try to sign me up with your God - please - save it for someone who hasn't already been to that party and come away hungry.
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5 comments:
Ah, my love. As you know I've been wrestling with the very same cosmic (or is that comic?) question. It seems that the more good I've given the more crap the universe has given me in return. *sigh* I suppose it's true that "No good deed goes unpunished".
Why must it be those like us who do all the right things, who help others in need, who are politically aware and contribute to our community, and who do our very best to conduct ourselves with the highest of morals are the ones that get shit on while those that wipe their feet on everyone they meet, could care less about helping the less fortunate and have all the moral turpitude of a snake have the midas touch?
It ain't fair! It just ain't fair!
Even as my mother trained me to be a "good girl", she acknowledged that "good girls get good reputations, but the bitches get the furs".
I long ago recognized that I'm too nice a guy for my own good. When it comes to being mercenary, I talk a good game, but I never did figure out how to do it effectively.
We help everyone else, but who helps us?
I wish I knew Boo! I wish I knew!
If we help others, other people will have to help us. I think people are meant to help each other, but everyone does not feel that way. They know that they come out ahead and independent only to the extent they do the opposite of what we do. We do not have a choice. We would not be able to live happily with ourselves, and others if we did any different.
You are the only people I know who are worse than me.
Worse how, Anonymous?
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