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Gone…like me, I suppose.

Discussion in 'Suicidal Thoughts and Feelings' started by Nearly Departed, Oct 10, 2012.

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  1. Well, that's odd. My first attempt seems to have vanished. I understood that it would be moderated until my account was…whatever, but I got the email from the admin and my thread never posted.

    In any event, I'm broke, about to be evicted, will lose all possessions, failure at everything, 49 years down the drain. No solution but the exit.

    Initial problem was avoidant personality (typically brought on by withdrawal of parental affection). Have no money , can't earn any, so can't even go across country to< edit moderator total eclipse against rules harming someone>

    Let the "you have so much to live for!" empty platitudes begin!

    Sorry, I'm probably going to be a little pissy. Tough to keep the self-loathing from ruining my worldview, you know.
    Last edited by a moderator: Oct 10, 2012
  2. Haha, "This user has no status"!

    Rub it in, SF, rub it in! :)
  3. total eclipse

    total eclipse SF Friend Staff Alumni

    You cannot post that you want to harm anyone on the forum ok please read rules of forum I deleted that part of your post If you are so desperate hun call a crisis line ok or go to hospital there they will set you up with support you need to move forward
  4. Drake

    Drake Well-Known Member

    Listen maybe just go trough the hardship, sometimes what applies to young people , especially applies to the old ..
    While restarting is never simple or easy ... expecting a miracle in these times is almost not excistant .

    Learn to appreciate life with less and in the end , you can always make that other choice .
    If you cannot accept less , well then you proof the world right , and what you said is right ,wasted years and time .
    Nothing will ever change even if you get a lucky break , see it as a new challenge instead of failure .

    No mountain too high no valley too deep ...
  5. Terry

    Terry Antiquities Friend Staff Alumni

    At the joyful age :dry: of 50, I found myself homeless, jobless and with 3 dependants to get through as well as myself.
    It isn't easy, but it can be done.
    Not sure where you are in the world, but here in UK we have something called The Citizens Advice Bureau.
    If you have ANYTHING similar, make an appointment and get down there, they will have information on what to do next and will help where able.
    If you are facing homelessness, Shelter would be the people to call.
  6. You know, the part where every time I try to post something it gets eaten? That doesn't really inspire a lot of confidence. Just saying.

    So, I'm back, after about a week. That's about par for the course, a brief bit of avoidant bliss after I dodge a bullet, and then the return of the certainty of impending doom.

    Let me recap my details here, because I didn't put them in the OP. I'm unemployed, and drawing a lousy $420 every two weeks. I'm behind on my rent for October, and while I did manage to get an extension last week, I was also told that this would be the last such extension.

    So the $420 that I receive next week will go to pay the back rent (and obnoxious $100 late fee).

    But the $420 that I receive on 11/3 will not be sufficient to pay the November rent. Thus, eviction, homelessness, and (give me the strength) death.

    IF by some miracle I manage to finesse that payment, and the December one, US Federal Unemployment funds are being cancelled as of 12/29. Yep, that great friend of the workingman, that flaming liberal, Barack Obama, hasn't even TRIED to extend UI, with Unemployment a "mere" 7.8% (and that's with some fudging of the "workforce" numbers), despite this being an election campaign.

    IF by a second miracle, Obama's masters at Goldman Sachs allow him to pretend to be a "Democrat" (while increasing military spending, assassinating American citizens, giving amnesty to mortgage fraudsters, and cutting Social Security) and extend the Unemployment benefits, mine will run out in February/March anyway.

    Death in December…or January…or March. Still pretty much the same.

    I can't get a job, I have no savings, I have no way to support myself. I will not be some stinking bum in some homeless shelter, stripped of everything I've ever possessed and getting knifed by some random crackhead. I'm not going to go camp out (and die of exposure), either. I want a life with some basic comforts and some dignity, and since I've failed at achieving what any adult should be able to achieve, eventually I will have to do society a favor and stop sucking up resources.

    Total Eclipse, "crisis lines" offer nothing but vapid platitudes (I actually talked to mine tonight) and urge you to seek psychiatric care. Two major problems there: it's never worked for me before, and it won't do a damn thing to keep a roof over my head. A weekly session with a shrink won't make homelessness any better, won't be a reason to go on living. A hospital stay would mean losing my possessions, my dignity AND incurring giant bills. They don't offer any "support" that I'm aware of, unless you're talking about empty therapy and/or drugs for the useless. NO, thank you.

    Drake, sorry, but i have no desire to face the "new challenge" of homelessness. Why should I, when I've failed at all the challenges life has given me thus far? I won't "pull myself up by my bootstraps", nor do i wish to try. Hitting bottom holds no romance for me…I'd rather leave when I can still shower before I kill myself, read a book as the gas takes me away.

    Terry, unfortunately, I don't live in the UK or any civilized country, I live in the dog-eat-dog shithole called "America". What few "resources" there are get no government funding, give no concrete assistance, and can't do anything to get you a job except say "buck up! Keep trying!". No. I don't want to try any more. If there's an actual solution I'll take it, but "self-reliance" and "believe in yourself" and "if at first you don't succeed, blah blah blah" hold no attraction for me.

    I'm a loser, a useless piece of crap. I can't function in this world. I deserve to die.

    "My life has been a failure. I welcome its end."

    Not for a few weeks, at least, but as inevitable as…a very inevitable thing. (Sorry, out of metaphors. Or is that a simile?) Cheers!
  7. And, once again, even though I was logged in, I get told I'm not logged in and don't have permission to post. Not really the most welcoming note, guys.

    Although perhaps the forum knew I didn't have anything of substance to say; everything is going as I worried it would in my last post, which aroused such devastating apathy here. Nobody wants to engage me in conversation, nobody has any practical solutions. Frankly, it pisses me off a little bit.

    Well, you won't miss me. I gather we've established that. So, I'm being redundant.

    So, yay, here comes eviction, homelessness, and death. So glad I live in America, where I have the "freedom" to starve without any pesky welfare programs or job-placement being offered. God bless this shit-hole! God bless Barack Obama, who won't even *consider* extending unemployment benefits! Of course, UI would only delay the inevitable for a couple more months, anyway.

    Unless my fairy godmother comes down and turns me into something other than the unemployable lump of shit I am, worthless, abandoned and despised, then I'll do the decent thing and stop eating food that could be used to feed the more-deserving. Not that any of you give even a tenth of a shit, as the past six weeks of silence so heartily prove. Fuck you, too.
  8. total eclipse

    total eclipse SF Friend Staff Alumni

    What would you have us say hun You do not want our advice You are not alone in being unemployed there are many out there that have lost homes etc. Look into what your community has to offer Go to food banks that is why they are there to help people who do not have enough funds to feed themselve go to the shelter until you can find work
  9. KK99

    KK99 Active Member

    God...and to think, people have to go through terrible things like this in their lives...I wish there was something I could do for you. :(

    I hope it's not too late, but all I can say is that under your circumstances, I'd feel the same way - I can also relate. These days, the job field and the economy is terrible, I know. Do you have someone you can stay with for awhile? Anyone? :(

    And also, if you go to a hospital & admit(<-probably wrong word) yourself, they can set you up with health insurance, and anything you need - they'll get you on your feet. :3
    Last edited by a moderator: Nov 28, 2012
  10. JmpMster

    JmpMster Have a question? Message Me Staff Member Forum Owner ADMIN

    Call 211 during normal business hours - it is th esocial service line and they will direct you to the proper social services agencies to get you assistance. If you are unemployed you qualify for medicaid after a short time so healthcare is available and you still get treatment if you go to a hospital regardless, i am less than certain what having a hospital bill that you cant pay does to make you situation worse.If you are not already getting food stamps go get them to relieve one financial worry, apply for HEAP to pay for your heating and electric, and go apply for subsidized income based housing. You said many times you can't get a hob - but have not mentioned why it is or why you believe it is that you cannot or if you are applying. Your concern over being stabbed in a homeless shelter is somewhat incongruous with your wish to kill yourself anyway. Spend a few hours tomorrow talking to social services and aide groups, and spend time fixing things, one at a time as opposed to worrying about what happens or could happen in a month after eviction , or in 3 months after unemployment runs out. If you cannot fixate on the present in order to try to change things instead only on what may happen in the future then you need further assistance and that may be in the form of medication or hospitalization and active involvement of social workers.
  11. total eclipse

    total eclipse SF Friend Staff Alumni

    Now there hun you have been given so many options see time to do something to help yourself lots of good advice here hun
  12. Thank you for showing caring and sympathy. (mod edit.. insulting member). Sorry to stress you, btw.

    Not really. I could contact the family I severed all contact with over a year ago, beg for money to travel across country to live on somebody's couch…and then what? I'd be financially dependent, jobless, lacking privacy, without all my possessions, and subject to the same scorn ("we gave you every advantage! Don't blame us, this is all your fault!") that's made me feel like an utterly useless piece of shit to begin with. And that's the "happy" outcome.

    I want a life where I have the possibility of not hating myself, where I can delude myself that someone might actually want to spend time with me, might give a fuck if I live or die. Pathetic, stressed-out, meal-to-meal beggary at the local shelter and food bank doesn't seem the answer.

    Yes, if I was Horatio Alger, capable of pulling myself up by my own bootstraps and conquering over adversity to achieve wealth and happiness, I could see that as a temporary setback, just another anecdote on the road to triumph. But…I don't. I've fucked up the first 50 years of my life, I'm pretty sure I will continue to be a useless, unwanted fuck-up.

    What purpose does clinging to life serve? Seems stupid and pathetic, tbh.

    Even assuming the health insurance means the treatment is totally free (my low-income CARE discount on electricity/heat still leaves me with a bill; my federally-subsidized phone still costs $), would the hospital provide long-term therapy, secure living quarters, allow me to keep my possessions and help me get a job? Seems very unlikely.

    The scenario I more likely foresee is a week or so of therapy, a diagnosis that I'm not "immediately dangerous" or detached from reality, a prescription, and being kicked out to enjoy the loving embrace of my local homeless shelter. Fuck that. That's not a life. That's just being too stupid to die. :(

    But again, thanks for caring. Have you ever considered becoming a moderator? You could do a better job than Total Failure, I know that much.
    Last edited by a moderator: Dec 15, 2012
  13. Before I address your individual thoughts, I want to let you know that I appreciate your attempt to help. (Unlike Totally Dismissive, whom I'm stilll pretty annoyed at, as you can tell.)
    Again, though (see response to KK99 above, this seems very jerry-built, last-second, bottom-of-the-barrel. They can get me to a homeless shelter, or a food bank…and then what? I have no home, no possessions, no security, no hope, no future. I become the garbage of society. I lose all dignity and get to live with smelly drug addicts camped under a freeway. None of this seems a path to improving a life I already hate and find useless.
    Well, it would be more debt to get out from under, right? More reasons why I won't be able to afford to maintain a home, much less save for retirement. More obligations I can fail to meet. And, again, what would a hospital do for me, really? I already have a prescription for Depakote. Now what?

    Had food stamps, am afraid to renew them (I mis-stated the amount of my rent on the application and I'm worried about being charged wth fraud). Also, as a single male, I only qualified for $80/month, which isn't enough, and Obama is cutting the food stamp assistance by $50/month in January. (Yes, he really is. We can drone-bomb US citizens anywhere he feels like it, without trial or even saying why, but feeding Americans? Screw that, we losers deserve to die.)

    I got a one-time $500 HEAP payment for an unpaid electric bill back in 2011. I'm not likely to get any more out of them, especially as their funding has been cut, as well. (Yes, Obama cut low-income heating oil subsidies during a depression. And still got to run claiming he was the more "left" of the two candidates. The "Democratic" party is as dead as I should be.)

    I believe the Section 8 housing waiting list is approximately three years long. And you need minor children to qualify. I don't.

    I'm too old for anyone to hire, and have no pertinent resume. Every ad I see demands qualifications I don't have. The last job I had was in sales, ie, stealing money from people and getting rejected constantly. It was making me nearly-suicidal when I still had it.

    Not really. What's the point in being told I don't have to kill myself if the "plan" for my survival involves my likely being killed anyway? And not getting to choose the moment of my passing, butbeing subject to others' violent whims? And suffering pain as opposed to the peaceful bliss of…well, we can't specify methods here, but if I have to go, it seems that "stabbed by a junkie in a shelter" would be pretty low on my list of ways to do it. Just saying.

    I have; and I haven't found much. And what I did get, I got by crying "help, suicidal!" loudly and long, and I'm pretty sure they all hate me. They have other patients to see, people who deserve it more than I do, yada yada yada. People who would be happy to go sleep under the freeway, unlike my spoiled fat ass, etc.

    Here's my timeline of interaction with my local county mental health clinic.

    October 19 (Fri): First vist, see clinician (Tamika). She seems positive and listens, we make 2nd appointment for following Thursday.

    October 25 (Thur): Go back, see Tamika. Again, positive. She fills out paperwork to start my enrollment with clinic, says she can speak to housing liaison (Martin), expedite something for November rent, perhaps. She's off Monday, we'll talk Tuesday.

    October 30 (Tues): No Tamika. Nobody know when she'll be in. I am patient (don't want to be a pest, you know)

    November 1 (Thurs): Tamika has vanished. nobody else there has even heard of me. I'm fairly stressed.

    November 2 (Fri): I go in person, make a fuss. Monica (officer of the day) says that they don't know when Tamika will be back, but they can have another caseworker (Catherine) cover for her, maybe next week. Martin is called over from the housing unit (9 blocks away), says that they can do a temporary eviction prevention but they need an actual three-day notice. And maybe something longer term down the road. I go home to await the 3-day notice, presumably coming on the 4th, as the 3rd is the last day I can pay the rent on time.

    November 6 (Tues): Obama is re-elected, and plutocrats everywhere rejoice! I still don't have my 3-day notice (surprisingly, but the building is being sold) but as my polling place is closer to Martin's office than my hope, I walk about 10 blocks to reach him. Unfortunately, Tuesdays he's out in the field. I leave a written note, and a voice mail. He doesn't respond.

    November 7 (Wed): 3-day notice posted. Call Martin. No response. Am now running out of minutes on my phone, and can't afford to buy new minutes.

    November 8 (Thurs): Get lucky and catch Martin at the end of the day. He doesn't work Friday (alternate Friday furlough) but since I'm in a crisis situation, he agrees to meet me Friday at the clinic.

    November 9 (Friday): Martin doesn't show. (His mom had an emergency.) The clinic says they would have tried to reach me, but they don't have my phone number (despite the fact that I've given it at least three times). I come fairly unglued, as if I don't reach some arrangement with the landlord/managers (who told me "no more extensions" in October, you may recall) an actual eviction proceeding will start. and I'll be dead, figuratively and soon literally.

    Joaquin (who doesn't actually work with housing, but is kind of available to liaison with Martin's office) comes over, eventually, becomes the fourth person I've told my tale of woe to and, after doing a lot of consulting (for which I have to leave the office [security, you know], sit in the fucking waiting room and watch Zookeeper over and over again (they have the shittiest movies…) says that he can write me a letter establishing that I'm officially in care of County Mental Health and hopefully my building manager will accept that, give Martin time to get me the "eviction prevention" funds, and then they can get started on a longer-term program. Oh and since Tamika is never, ever, ever coming back there (guess I scared her off) they'll set me up an appointment with Catherine for the following Wednesday. I get the documents, leave slightly mollified.

    November 11 (Sunday): Meet with Mandy, the buiding manager. She is, frankly, more sympathetic than I would have thought. She takes Joaquin's letter and says she'll wait for Martin to get her the funds for November.

    November 14 (Wednesday): Return to clinic, meet with Catherine (person #5), go over old basic ground. Catherine is, well, a piece of shit. She refuses to believe I have Avoidant Personality disorder, insisting I'm being depressive and I need to see the doctor and get some happy pills and everything will just be fine. As for my work issues and housing crisis? Sorry, they have a lot of people to help and she can't guarantee anything. Usually you have to be homeless and institutionalized for them to get you into a program. (This contradicts what Tamika told me, but Tamika is a lying liar and long gone, so…)

    This not only depresses me because of negative outcomes but also triggers my self-loathing, since she's more concerned with being non-committal than actually helping! "Don't blame me, you fat piece of shit! It's not my fault! I'm trying my best! You're the fucking loser who can't manage your own life." If I wanted THAT subtext, I'd talk to my Mom, for fuck's sake.

    Eventually, she pawns me off on Dr. O, the psychiatrist. He's Nigerian, suave, a good listener, and knows how to stroke an ego. Person #6 that I've had to humiliate myself in front of, but he says that I'm obviously intelligent, he's looking forward to speaking with me again (next appointment is December 13) and he'll even check up on me before that. We sort of reach a peace treaty; he'll put Avoidant in the file (not really wanting to be misdiagnosed, obviously; it's a sore point for me), but I kind of resign myself to trying the Depakote for 30 days. (Its "mood-stabilizing" effects prevent any late-night "blue periods", but still, any time I objectively analyze my situation, such as now, I still believe I'm thoroughly screwed and can't see any hope of any future.)

    From him, I bounce to Sue (program administrator, person #7) and Dr. T (program chief, person #8). Apparently I've made enough of a stink that the big dogs are noticing. Martin is still out, so Sue says she'll keep trying to reach his email; they say that Tamika is gonzo, but a Dr. A (clinician/case manager) will be assigned from "downtown" in December and I can resume therapy with her.

    I go get my Depakote. The pills are football-sized, and my attempts to swallow one are incredibly futile (and they taste like shit once they dissolve in your mouth). Fortunately, they dissolve in soda, which helps thereafter.

    November 16 (Friday): Apparently I already have a case manager, Frank (person #9, seems nice enough) but he's leaving soon, and turning me over to Dr. A. We go over the same old stuff (just the outlines of my situation, no attempt to work on anything, for about the sixth time, it seems) and then meet with Martin (Sue did get ahold of him yay), and fill out the paperwork. I'm a touch concerned about the fact that EP $ won't arrive before the end of November, which it would seem the landlord might like, but Martin says there's not much they can do about it. I won't be able to see anybody until Dr. A arrives in December, which doesn't thrill me (over a month without therapy), but hey, maybe Dr. O. will call to check in, as he promised. (He doesn't.)

    November 19 (monday): meet with Mandy to fill in her part of the EP application; otherwise a quiet week.

    November 26 (monday): start of another quiet week. Have heard nothing from nobody, leading to my venting here on 11/28.

    November 30 (friday): get Martin on the phone, but he's in "I make no guarantees, I don't even want to speculate, don't blame me" preventive non-help mode. This does not cheer me.

    December 3 (Monday); go pay December rent despite November not being taken care of. New assistant building manager ("Pat") seems cool with situation, so I don't get too stressed, but it would sure be nice to know if somebody has paid it, or if we can now move on to dealing with what's next.

    Also call clinic; no Dr. A, yet. Apparently "downtown" is being slow with her paperwork or something.

    December 7 (Friday): Dr O's secretary calls; he had an "emergency", he'll be out all this coming week, my appointment is now scheduled for 1/21. Not sure how I'm going to get my prescription renewed.

    I get bounced around to Cindy (Intake worker/receptionist) who says that Dr. A won't start until January, that Frank is still my caseworker, but he's using up his vacation days this month and is never coming back again, either. So that's going to be like THREE MONTHS without therapy, when that is the only thing that even theoretically offers the possibility of my becoming sane and self-sufficient any time soon. (Meantime, if you've forgotten, Obama is ending Unemployment at year end and cutting food stamps starting in January.) Cindy tells me to call back, today.

    Today: Good news is that the other doctors will rewrite the prescription. Bad news is that I can see February coming already, when I'll have no UI, and likely no coverage for housing subsidies, and I'm right back where I thought I'd be ending up when all this started.

    Despite my amazing good luck with the building managers (apparently the new owners, based out of state, are not hard-asses about evictions and stuff), the fact is that:

    • I'm still a month overdue on the rent, with no guarantee (or even "don't worry about it") that I'll get that money
    • I'm still losing Unemployment three weeks from now
    • I still am not getting any therapy/job placement that would give me any likelihood of self-sufficiency

    And therefore, all i can see ahead is homelessness/dispossession/death. The "system" just doesn't allow for "lazy" men like me who don't have the gumption start dealing drugs or whatever REAL men do with that entrepreneurial spirit that made America "great". If you're unemployed, fuck you, go die. Which I'll have to do, sooner or later.

    Probably sooner.

    What can I fix? As noted in the exhaustive TL above, I've exhausted all available resources. And just because I don't have an exact eviction date, that doesn't mean it isn't going to happen. If you don't pay your rent, you get evicted; if you get evicted, you get to be homeless. I would rather be dead than homeless. QED.

    I AM being medicated; very little of my suicidal impulses are chemical; it's mostly deep-rooted self-loathing and major financial stress.

    Hospitalization won't accomplish anything; it will exacerbate my financial issues, and once they medicate me, out I go! Hospitals ain't cheap, you know. This isn't England (or France/Germany/Australia/anywhere civilized), if you can't pay, you don't stay! US psychiatric hospitals are known for dumping patients on Skid Row, at 4 a.m. so nobody sees.

    Social workers????? Hahahahaha!! Where do you think I live? Good luck finding a social worker in NYC, pal! No better luck out here, I'm sad to say.

    God, this country is SUCH a piece of shit. I guess I deserve it.

    Anyway, thanks for the attempt at engagement. Off to get my fresh meds! Yay. :)
  14. Sorry, forgot to mention, but my right ankle is pretty swollen now. Fairly sure it's type II diabetes (a great uncle had it), so now I won't even be able to EAT, which is about the one pleasure I have in life. Great.

    Yes, they make shitty-tasting diabetic food (I assume it's shitty because if it tasted as good as regular food while being healthier, it would be competitive in the larger market, right?) but that costs too damn much. I can't even afford the junk I eat now. A diet of leaves and water (avoid dairy, carbs, protein, and sugars) and sticking myself with a needle to check my sugar ratio all the time. Fuck that. I worked with a guy who had to do that…ugh.
  15. lordsalisbury

    lordsalisbury Well-Known Member

    Hey man, wow, I'm not surprised you feel the way you do, that's unbelievable. The joys of bureaucracy.

    This is pretty lame advice, but do you have anything you could sell to raise some quick cash? I once made a bit of money by selling off some of my old books on amazon, and people buy some strange stuff on ebay.
  16. Well, I once sold the jewels of my baseball card collection for about $2500 back in 1989 (I had moved to Las Vegas, had a sports-betting problem), got back in debt, ended up having to beg the family for money anyway and now really regret what I did. ($2500 in '89 is what now? $5000?) I suppose it might be possible, but it's still a temporary, transient solution. Rather not lose my stuff and be back in the same ditch by March, you know?

    On the plus side, Dr. A was actually at the clinic today! She couldn't "legally" see me (says it's going to take 2-4 weeks for them to finish the paperwork) but we talked, and she seems good. (Also? Hot. Which may be a distraction…we'll see.) Got my prescription refilled, got a $50 food card…not bad.

    Weirdly enough, it turns out that I have to go back tomorrow. Apparently, after I spoke to Cindy on Friday, she did speak to Sue (I guess at the end of the day) and Sue arranged for Joaquin (as an already-cleared case manager) to have me "meet" Dr. A tomorrow. Unfortunately, nobody bothered to tell ME this. But this works in my favor, I guess, because I'm getting two sort-of sessions in two days. Of course, even combined it may not add up to an entire hour, and we still have to wait until January for anything regular to happen again, but I guess we're clearing a *little* groundwork out of the way…I don't know.

    Also, although they had told me that my prescription was being faxed to the pharmacy, when I got to the clinic, they had another doctor (Dr. E) write it for me, and I babbled at him, too (this is before anyone told me Dr. A was even there). He was polite, but obviously rushed. But that's what, a dozen people I've dealt with without beginning any real therapy? Ugh.

    On the bright side, Dr. E did write the new prescription as 4 125mg pills per day, rather than a single 500mg football. So perhaps I'll be able to swallow these without dissolving them. (Won't know until Saturday; have to finish the footballs first.) And the foot feels better, which is weird, considering how much walking I had to do today. (Since the County is paying for my meds, I can only get them at certain places, not just any pharmacy. The "approved" pharamacy is about a half-mile from the supermarket they gave me the gift card for. So I figured I'd kill two birds with one scone, and went shopping first, but then I missed the bus to the next stop and it didn't make sense to wait a half-hour. So I schlepped my bags to the pharmacy…ugh, not good.) You would think it would be more inflamed, not less. That's a little weird.

    And so it goes…
  17. Tired John

    Tired John Well-Known Member

    I've got zero advise, but just want you to know that I'm seeing much of myself in your words. It sucks to not be young in this country. I'm 59, been without work for so long I am embarrassed to even say. One effen interview that went nowhere. Like you, I think I prefer to go out on my own terms, rather that die the slow death corporate America has in store for me. Living on the street of under a bridge might work for some, but I'm 59 yo and have never learned the skills that would require. As you said, I want to take a shower before I go. Thanks for sharing your dealings with the so called "safety net," it sounds exactly as I suspected it is.
  18. Anything I can do to help. :)

    Some good and some bad this week; I went to the Clinic on Tuesday, "met" Dr. A for about 10 seconds, and then Joaquin's brilliant idea was for me to visit the "Discovery Center", a nearby small thing run by former patients with little "discussion groups" on various topics. Made me feel utterly segregated and second-class, as if having to get through security and never being alone with anyone at the clinic (door has to stay open, so they can scream for help, you know!) didn't do that enough. I'm trying to find a way to cope with society, not sit around and sing "kumbayah" with people crazier than I am.

    Yeah, I guess I'm something of a snob. But still.

    So that was fucking useless, got me angry and defensive and Joaquin was like "well, that's all for today!" (He couldn't wait to get rid of me. Oh, and apparently *he's* my case manager with Frank on permanent vacation and Dr. A. not yet approved.) But I was like "hey, shouldn't we do something about finances? I have to pay you at some point, don't I?"

    So we got to meet Letitia ("Letty"), the financial lady (what is she, person #14?) and while Joaquin was there at the beginning, like "moderating" or something and pressing the "we're doing all we can, fuck off" line, he eventually got lost and Letty and I had a decent conversation. She said that you don't just qualify for Medicaid, you need to be on Social Security Disability or whatever, but the county-run program, although insufficient, will expand and become part of Medicaid in 2014 (under the Obamacare Medicaid expansion). So if I can make it another year (I don't know how…) without earning enough to become part of the working poor again (and thus ineligible), I might get something out of it, maybe. Not a great comfort, but at least a possibility, I suppose.

    She also said you needed to be in a doctor's care for at least 6 months before disability would approve you. Which sort of fits with what I heard initially, but Dr. O had said that you needed to apply between 9 and 49 days of your initial diagnosis, which contradicts that. I've been trying to get Disability on the phone, but there are always "too many people" for me to get in the queue (honestly, I don't MIND 30 minutes on hold, if need be), so no luck so far.

    Letty also said she'd talk to Martin about the progress of my "eviction prevention" and the long-term programs I might be eligible for, and promised to call me back on Wednesday. Of course, she didn't, but…

    …when I called on Friday, I learned she'd been told that as a Financial person, she couldn't make such inquiries, only my case manager could. Which would seem to severely fuck me, as I'm between case managers…except that Dr. A's papers have cleared and I can now schedule time with her! *dances*

    So I now have an appointment for next Thursday, my inquiries are at least being made by the "proper" person, and maybe we can even squeeze in some psychotherapy. (It has to be confounding for Dr. A. to wear both the "case manager' and "psychotherapist" hats, but it does keep things focused, I think.) OTOH, we're another week gone, and if I don't get the "Eviction Prevention" funds soon, I'm pretty fucked wrt the wayyyy overdue November rent.

    But, we'll see. Fingers crossed…for now.
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