My teeth hurt.
I'm one of those people that sets my jaw and keeps my teeth together when I'm anxious or upset. If my teeth hurt, that usually means something isn't going right.
The past month or so, or perhaps the past couple of weeks, I've been sliding downward a bit. Life is like a roller coaster sometimes, except that it's in the dark so you can't see where the track goes next. Also, you can't always tell when you're going down a hill.
Hrm. Maybe roller coasters aren't the best to compare my life against, but there it is.
I'm avoiding the vets house, and by that I mean avoiding. There are a couple of guys there that I talk to on a regular basis, so I'm not completely anti-social. Whenever I can get myself cleaned up, dressed, and out the door, I do. When I can't, I just sort of lie around my room and forget there's a world outside. I forget the world inside too, unless someone calls me (which I ignore) or knocks on my door (which had better be for a good reason).
Vets house's full time case manager has been out for medical reasons for a couple of months, and recently we've had another case manager picking up some of the slack. I'm peeved that it took two months to get a replacement-- if anyone needs case management, homeless vets should be at the top of the list. Whatever. I filled in the new guy a couple of weeks ago, told him my situation, and asked for help on one especially important task that I've been avoiding. Even thinking about it to mention it here triggers me. I haven't heard anything back from him.
I can see where it may say somewhere that I'm supposed to be the one following up about these kinds of things. Building up independence is one of the goals of the program I'm in, but I feel like this is another case where no one understands that I need help with this. That's why I'm feeling stuck, that's why I'm feeling down, that's why the PTSD is winning.
Homelessness is a bit like running an engine as fast as you can, every day. When you have to figure out where you can sleep without getting robbed, assaulted, or arrested, some extra fuel (in this case, adrenaline) is required. Some parts wear out. Some break. Eventually, the engine just says "enough" and then you have to repair it or replace it. I'm at the point where I need some repairs. I can do some of them on my own, but for others I need help.
It's hard enough for me to figure out that I need help, and harder still to ask for it. I believe in myself, that I can get through anything. When I do ask for help and I'm ignored, that's a problem. I'm certain that if I track the case manager down, his answer is going to be "Ohhh... right, right. I missed that somehow, I'll look into it tomorrow."
I'm losing faith, quickly, in the VA Transitional Housing program. That's not news if you've been reading my posts the past couple of months, but it needs to be said out loud again. It's fine to sit down once a month or once a week and go over one's goals, but if you don't consider what's really wrong, the list of goals doesn't matter. Give me a list of things to do for a month, I won't touch it. I'll get anxious, then triggered, then I'll avoid every item on the list.
I don't like being nagged to get things done. As in, I'll go from zero to pissed off in milliseconds-- but I can try to deal with it, for now. I am in a place where if I can just get help with a few things, major things, I can handle managing the rest. I'm overwhelmed right now. A little help would really help.