I am officially…a scorching hot mess.
My stomach is churning. This situation with our living arrangement being up in the air is shredding me to bits in every way. The uncertainty and dishonesty on the part of the former landlord now property management company manager has me spinning out of control. One would think the anxiety would make me snap out of the crippling depression and into action. I wish it were that simple. How I wish it worked that way.
Instead I am frozen, paralyzed.
And definitely slipping in a bad way.
I used to be able to pay rent at the office via debit card. Now we have to submit checks or money orders and since I don’t do checks, I had to get a money order. More hassle, and extra two bucks, plus a stamp but since my car has no heat now, I didn’t relish driving all the way out there to hand deliver it. I haven’t filled out a money order in ages so that brought new anxiety. Then I dropped it in the mail box at the post office…
Only to get home and realize…I DID NOT ADDRESS THE ENVELOPE.
Enter panic. I called the post office and amazingly, got a helpful clerk who went through the outgoing mail and found my little bird stamped blank one and he addressed it for me. Thank God!
This is what happens when I start melting down. The stomach aches start, they are excrutiating. I start dropping the ball on important things, ya know, like putting close to $400 in an envelope that’s not addressed. Geesh, what’s next? I forget to turn off the stove and blow the place up because the stress is eating away at me? Because I am buried so far under the depression I can’t see a ray of sunshine anywhere?
Speaking of sunshine…Today is so cold and gray it was all I could do to put on non pajama pants and venture out into the dish. This seasonal depression is so crippling, and maddening. Every step feels like I am wearing a concrete wet suit. I eat because I get nauseated if I don’t but there’s no joy. It’s one more meaningless, exhausting task. Which is probably why I’vew started living on beef jerky and generic Lucky Charms.
Not sure how much more I can take before something very bad happens due to my discombobulated state of mind.
And I am so angry with lying landlords and property management companies and a damned psych nurse who pretty much hung me out to dry because she’s bloody incompetent. And sure, it may be misplaced and dramatic but I am a disabled person and it feels like everyone is stomping all over me without regard to that fact. And I am so paralyzed by it all I’ve stopped trying to speak up. The cashier charged me for three packs of beef jerky today (she was busy yapping on the phone) when I only had two and I didn’t even speak up. Because honestly, I’m afraid if the dam on all this anger and frustration breaks, I might well come undone in a way that results in white coated men taking me away.
I have no solutions though it seems everyone else does. Do something. Be proactive. The antithesis of depression. If I knew which way to go, I’d sure as hell go that way. But I am so confused and nervous and stressed and devoid of hope…it’s like I can’t do anything but stand still.
Though I agreed to ride with my sister to my uncle’s funeral tomorrow. I haven’t seen the man since I was ten but since it happens while my kid is at school, I feel I should go as a sign of respect. And of course, going out of town at someone else’s mercy when they drive, being thrust into a town I haven’t seen in twenty years, amidst a bunch of people I barely know…that’s an enormous trigger.
So what am I going to do?
Keep venting until I can make sense of it all, I guess. At some point, clarity has to overcome confusion, I suppose. Or the whole thing crushes me when it comes tumbling down. I’ve got so little fight left in me…I’m not sure I even care. I’d just rather get an eviction notice already rather than live in constant anxiety and doubt. 9 years of paying on time and causing no problems, I should at least be deserving of some respect and a head’s up.
Sadly I am dealing with deceptive people with zero regard for others. Sociopaths but because they have money and are successful, they are somehow better than me.
Think they should be the ones with a psych diagnosis. I am far from perfect but if there;s something I have in spades it is a conscience. To make up for all the sociopaths, I suppose.
FTW. Until my mood swings, anyway.