03 August 2012

Simple things

I’m still in my apartment, but not for long. The court date was Tuesday during the same time as my WRAP group, and I chose to attend the WRAP group. I’m going to be evicted anyway-- I won’t have the money to settle up my account until next week, and my landlord has made it pretty clear that they want me out. My lease is up on August 14th, so moving is something I was already planning for this month. I’ll be happy when I’m in a new place. The noise that’s been triggering me every day all summer will be gone.

I’m generally feeling like crap. Much of my stuff is in either stacks of boxes or piles, making it hard to navigate a small space. I look at the things I still need to pack, and since it’s all disorganized I immediately see it as an overwhelming task to finish. I avoid it now, mostly. Games on my phone, reading web pages and sometimes papers, watching video podcasts. Avoidance never solves anything, but I’ve done it so long that I’m good at it.

Days off work, especially when I don’t have VA appointments, are the worst. The early morning hours from 0100-0500 are the second worst. Those are the times when I feel most alone and depressed, cut off from the world. Delivery food has been one way to lessen the effect-- even the brief encounter with the pizza guy helps-- but right now I can’t afford delivery food. This might prove to be a cloud with a silver lining, if I break the habit of emotional eating I’ve had for a while now.

I’ve been eating the last of my canned food and such the past week or so. One reason is that having eaten it, I don’t have to pack or move it. The real reason is that I have no money. None. Nada. Zilch. My accounts are either negative or past due until next Friday. Last night I discovered $2.50 I didn’t know I had, and that bought me two dollar menu burgers for dinner tonight. Now I’m down to oatmeal. I know it’s more food than some people have, but plain oatmeal sucks. Chocolate oatmeal isn’t as bad. Sounds crazy, but a few teaspoons of chocolate pudding mix thrown in at least gives the oats some kind of flavor.

I’m afraid, now. I need to get help at work to get paid, since I didn’t get my hours entered and so didn’t get paid for three pay periods. This explains why I’m eating chocolate oatmeal. It’s an easy thing to do, and in the past I’ve had no trouble getting my hours in. I don’t know why it’s so hard now, but I do know how it makes me feel. I beat myself up for getting myself into this mess by me not doing a simple thing that everyone else does without problems. Sitting alone in my apartment waiting for dawn to break, the negative thoughts find me quickly. When I feel like that, I can’t think about getting anything done, much less getting my hours entered and asking HR to process them. (At work I’ve been complimented on paying attention to detail, so this feels like I’m admitting that’s not true. An emotional argument rather than a rational one, but my brain seems to be stuck on the idea.

My behavioral action group ended today, and I missed the session by oversleeping. I’m disappointed, getting to that group today would have helped. The past couple of weeks my only check-in on progress towards goals has been “still packing, still looking for a new place, still triggered as all hell”, and that’s frustrating when I want to make steady progress. I may try to do that group again, as it has done me some good. This apartment stuff has been overwhelming the good things I’ve been doing.

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m also in a Wellness Recovery Action Plan (WRAP) group. This group only has a couple of weeks left. It ties together so many things I’ve learned from therapy and my own ideas, but as with all plans it has to be created before it can be used. I need a day to get things organized, refer to my notes (especially my cognitive based therapy and transitions clinic binders) and put it all together in one place. I do need to let go a little, and convince myself that it doesn’t have to be perfect. I really want this to work, so making it right may be a positive if I don’t go too crazy about perfection.

Time to head home... ugh. I’d be perfectly happy to stay at work all night, hopped up on instant coffee.

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