I need the patience of a saint.

My parents just called and suggested I could meet them in a nearby city this weekend because they’re going to a dance or something and are going to drive their motorhome up.

So I said if they wanted a campsite for this Saturday night, they had better get on that yesterday, because it’s prime camping season. My dad was like “On yeah, I’ll look into it tomorrow” and I didn’t get why you wouldn’t make a reservation right away if you know that’s what your plans are.  Either he doesn’t want to pay for a campsite, or he doesn’t grasp the idea of reserving online and wants to try to call a person, which is fine, but I said I didn’t really want to spend the night in a Walmart parking lot with no power or water, I’d rather drive back home. Seeing as it’s prime camping season and all. So that’s frustrating because I’m trying to help them out and they’re being obtuse! When my mom got on the phone I said I was just trying to explain the reservations and what not and she got this TONE of voice and was like “Is something wrooooong?” Like I would tell you if there was something wrong. You would be literally the last person on the planet, bitch!

I feel like it would be a jerk move to turn them down because they obviously want to see me, even though to be honest I don’t want to see them! I felt annoyed and thought “What for?? You were just here!” Don’t they remember how much fun we didn’t have? Can’t I just see them at Christmas and leave it at that? I mean, I would never pick them as friends if they weren’t my parents and they have opposite values of me so we just don’t have a lot in common and it sucks to feel pressured. Fuck!!

To-do list

I put “put bra and shirt on” as a Thing I Have Accomplished Today. Yep, I’m reaching. I had bought some baskets of mushrooms because they were the cheapest, which turned out to be a mistake as when I sat down to clean them they had become moldy  from being in the damp plastic. Great.

The Food Bank is awesome.

I called the food bank because the lady at the nonprofit credit counselling services agency gave me a sheet of resources after I told her my grocery budget was $100 a month. She was like “that’s totally not realistic” and I said  OK, fair enough, $150. I was thinking of the giant tub of protein powder that I just bought for $100, and then I would just need milk to go with it, right?  Well apparently a grocery budget supposed to be at least 3 times that.  She asked what about eating out? And I was like ha ha Ha! That’s funny! Well, I do have the $1.50 hotdog every time I go to Costco.

So she said even if they could just start coming up with some of the basics, I’d be in a better place, and I thought OK. So I called them on Friday. They still had a file on me from my old address, so it must be at least three years ago, but I didn’t have to answer any questions or anything. They directed me to the crisis centre which is actually near my house, so I went there this morning.

I drank all the milk last night,  so my fridge contains a bag of apples, the eggs from Costco that I still haven’t cooked, peanut butter and jam and syrup and salad dressing. The freezer has frozen peas, frozen bananas, a couple of pieces of frozen meat, and a few little bags of frozen vegetables. Then rice and lentils in the pantry, and that’s it.

When I’ve been going grocery shopping, I usually get a bag of frozen fruit from Costco for $10 or $15 to make smoothies with, some bread, milk, and maybe some frozen veggies.  So my nails are pretty much a coffee or a pop in the morning, the smoothie throughout the day, and then some toast or a bowl of frozen peas when I get home.

I wasn’t expecting much,  because when you pass the food bank donation bags to buy  at the store it’s all dry pasta, spaghetti sauce, mac-and-cheese, and cans of beans.

So there I was waiting in the waiting room, trying not to cry, thinking I would probably get a couple of regular grocery bags of stuff.  And feeling really pissed off about the rental laws. Five years ago I was living in a place that was like $550 less, but that was the place that I had to take the landlord to court because he couldn’t bolt the toilet to the floor and wouldn’t pay someone to do it. Let’s say that place was $800. So then I moved into the main floor suite, for $950. Then after living there for two years, he raised the rent to $1100.  Then the place was absolutely infested with mice, to the point where I couldn’t even leave silverware in the cupboards because the mice ran all over the house at night. So I had all of my dish cloths and silverware in Ziploc bags, and had these cartons of nitro gloves from Costco and Lysol wipes,  and the mice had shit all inside the stove so it was totally unusable, and the landlord wasn’t willing to do anything about it. So I moved again. To a place that was $1300. Because it’s only $200 more, but that was the best that I could find. Then it was $50 more. So now I’m paying $1350 a month, plus power, which is more than one of my two week paychecks.

I guess it’s like being house poor, because I don’t have a mortgage or any fucking equity, there’s no point to it. So I’m sitting here thinking about how I’ve worked harder and harder and I’m just getting further and further behind, and I’m literally tearing up sitting in the food bank waiting room. Finally they called my name, and there’s little tables where you can unload their boxes into your bags. Holy shit. I don’t know when I have bought a grocery haul like that.  I’m absolutely sure that’s the kind of stuff that my parents and my sister got when they’re grocery shopping, but this is totally news to my fridge.

Fucking fresh cauliflower, fresh broccoli, radishes, an eggplant, a brick of cheese, a brick of cream cheese, a carton of milk, a bag of some sort of frizzly fancy salad leaves, a huge tub of potato salad, two loaves of bread and a bag of buns. A bag of sugar and one of brown sugar,  A couple of bottles of Gatorade that will be handy for when I get a migraine, a bag of cereal, a couple of boxes of mac & cheese, a can of salmon,  A bunch of snacky type stuff like granola bars and fruit roll ups,  and a tray of eight plain individual chocolate cakes. I mean, holy shit.  I kind of expected gruel and bruised fruit or something.

So I’ll be cooking today, to make sure none of this goes to waste.  And when I’m in a better place, I’m going to pay it back.

What time off plans will be most vacation-ey.

My shrink has been on holiday, so I haven’t seen him for three weeks. Or rather, Tuesday was the first time I have seen him in three weeks. In the meantime I’ve started crying at my boss, and I’m just sort of feeling worn out with the stupid summer weather and attendant migraines.

When I cried at my boss, I had said that I hadn’t really been on a good vacation since 2009, and that I didn’t actually have many vacation days accrued yet, and he said he was happy for me to do whatever I needed, that he didn’t want to lose me, etc. So I had said to him, I think this was last week, that I had thought about taking some time off around the Labour Day long weekend and the beginning of September.

By the time I got to my psychiatrist this week, five weeks  away was just seeming like way too far, and that there was no way I could go to work five days a week for five more weeks until I got time off. It ended up being a pretty long appointment because he was trying to figure out what would be the best for me to take a little bit of time  I have to hopefully nip this in the bud so I can be rejuvenated and not wait until I totally hit the wall.

I didn’t just want to start days off immediately, because I’d be stressed out about work that wasn’t getting done and whether I can remember what I was doing and what I was supposed to do when I got back, and I couldn’t imagine whether it would be better to just work shorter weeks and take a long weekend for a few weeks in a row, or take off a big chunk of time, or what.

So  it ended up being a pretty long appointment before we figured it out, but my psychiatrist made what I thought was a great suggestion and then he wrote me a note for it. So I’m working a four day week this week and next week, then taking a week off which will really be like 10 days with the statutory holiday.  So I’m trying to decide what to do. I haven’t gone camping in ages, and although the weekends are mostly booked up there are quite a few walk-in tent sites available for Sunday through Friday.

I would have to pick up a tent,  which is one of the few things that I won’t be getting at Costco because I don’t need a tent for 8 people, but really I don’t even need a camp stove as I’m happy to pack some sandwiches and hotdogs to roast over the fire and marshmallows and maybe some cans of boost. I can travel light.

My frugal self thought that I should look on Kijiji first, but I’m a bit leery of buying a used tent because who knows how the last person packed it up, and I don’t really want to assemble a tent in somebody’s living room before I decide to buy it, and then I wouldn’t find out if it had a leak or small tear until I was getting rained on anyway.

My big dilemma is really if I should concentrate on all of the million projects that I have at home, including chores and more fun ones like finishing off some jewellery on making, repainting my little antique cupboard, or just try to get away..

I know is it going away is the most vacation-ey thing,  but I’m always kind of behind the gun with grocery shopping and laundry and cleaning because of the migraines, and it seems to me almost even Stephen: I could go away and then come back to a messy house which is stressful, or I could stay home but then not have any actual getaway which is stressful in a different way..

I’d like to think that I could just go to a nearby park for an hour or two, but I never seem to actually make that happen.

I woke up with a migraine, and have been taking medications for about 2 1/2 hours, and now I am mostly pain-free and about half drowsy. Which I think is a fairly doable level.  I’m in the headspace where I’m not tracking with my migraine app right now because I know that I have migraines literally all the freaking time in the summer, and it’s just depressing to see how much it actually is.  I want to go into work today so that I actually have a long weekend instead of a migraine day and then a workday and then a regular weekend because that kind of defeats the point of having the time off.

Really the problem with having a migraine is having to move. I think if I could do everything by dictation, the way that I do blogging, without having to look at anything bright or get  out of bed, I could work. It’s mostly that my head hurts more when I move, and they’re so much movement involved with getting from my bed to make sure at work; into the bathroom to get ready, out of my apartment, out of my building, into the car,  Drive to work, into the Parkade elevator, down the hall, into my department, into my office. Then I finally get to sit down and not move my fucking head until the end of the day. Here goes nothing.

My parents are visiting, and I hate it.

I hate it when they come. I hate feeling like a horrible person for not being able to just suck it up when they annoy the living crap out of me.

There is a sweet little hotel literally at the end of my block but they don’t like it because it’s not a chain (?!?), so they are staying like waaay on the outskirts of town. I saw a sign for “infill” and explained that is totally what I want to do when I buy a house, and then they went on and on about how they live in the suburbs in the middle of Big Box Land and they LOVE it, which is like the 7th circle of hell for me – we just have totally opposite values which I get and they just sort of don’t.

I tried to suggest to my dad that I not meet them for breakfast tomorrow morning because we were not getting along anyway, and they want to get an early start which means I have to leave to drive there an hour before I ever leave for work on a weekday, and but my dad was like “Oh no, so we’ll see you at 8:30, that’ll be good” because they want to pretend we actually get along I guess?

Ugh. I need to go to bed, I’m probably not even making sense anymore, but I could just cry because I have to go into work tomorrow, and for the next 6 days straight, and they stress me out. I don’t enjoy it. I don’t like it, I don’t think I like them, we have nothing in common, and then I feel even guiltier because I couldn’t just let it roll off my back and they play it like I just randomly “fly off the handle” and they are magnanimous enough to forgive me. Ugh. Awful.

I… fuck… fucking weather… steroids

I have straight up had a migraine since last Wednesday. I should’ve gone into work over the weekend to make up time, but I just hang onto the bed and close my eyes. Today I took a steroid, which is supposed to be the last resort of last resort, and I managed to make it through the day but I still felt like crap, and I took a Gravol because I felt so nauseous it made my heart race for like five hours.

I cried on the bus on the way home, and then I cried on the walk home, and then I cried for like two hours when I got home, and I was working on trying to find another car but I would’ve had to have my dad cosign for me and it’s just not worth the stress…  and it’s not even so much the stress of having to deal with my dad as it is the stress of getting into a loan for years and years. I haven’t managed to keep a job for more than three years since I graduated, and I’m at 2 1/2 years for this job now,  and I feel like I’m hanging on by the skin of my teeth, not to mention that my boss told me to be discharged and get back to work or he couldn’t keep my job open for me just two short months ago.  So I pretty much feel like I’m gonna lose my job again in six months, or a year, and then I’ll be on unemployment and looking for a job again, and I’ll manage to scrape through until I kill myself,  but I’m seeing  repossession or desperation in the future.

So I guess I’ll just basically never have a car again, because it’s probably not realistic to want to save enough money to just buy one with cash. I had a car 20 years and four months ago, when I first moved to the city. So now I’m moving backwards. As soon as my lease is up here, I’m going to look for somewhere smaller to move  and my life will just shrink around me until I’m an old maid in a boarding house room with nothing and no one. I actually hope to God that I have the courage to kill myself before it comes to that point.

Fuck insurance and fuck body shops.

I might have already written about this here. I don’t know. Anyway, at the end of last month it was super foggy outside and I was driving in the morning and as I turned to face east the sun was just lighting up my windshield and I couldn’t see where I was going. So I went to pull over, because the road I was on has cars parked on both sides so it’s actually only one lane wide. I rear-ended a jeep, and had what looked to me like a bend in my hood and a broken light lens. People recommended that I look into fixing it myself, but I thought I didn’t have enough money so I would do it through insurance. What the fuck does it matter to me, I thought, if my premiums rise for some future year where I may or may not even be here? So off to the body shop I went, where they quoted over $4000. They wanted to repaint fenders so it would match the hood and all this crap, and the insurance lady said that they had a duty to restore my car to the way it was before the accident so I couldn’t just say “straighten out the hood and I don’t care if it’s a different shade of gray.”

However, they don’t think it’s actually worth restoring my car to the way it was before, because it’s a 2005 with almost 200,000 km on it, so they’re just gonna write me a check and write the car off.

So now I don’t have a car.  Or at least I won’t have a car after tomorrow morning. My dad is going to be pissed, because he gave me this car when they bought a new car for themselves and I’m sure it was some sort of hand me down, like I’m never going to be able to buy myself a decent car so they’ll help me out. Anyway, I texted my sister to *please* call me today, because my parents often call on the weekends and my dad often asks how the car is and how the cat is just for something to say. Not bringing it up until it comes up is one thing, but I’d like to at least have some kind of game plan for what to say.

You can’t get a car, really, for what the insurance company is giving me. It would have to be a pretty old beater, with pretty high mileage, and I’m not really thinking I want to take a test drive with some guy off craigslist or whatever. So I got the name of a car salesman from a friend of mine, and it was clear that I need to get some kind of financing even if I got the most-used of their used cars. So I told the guy that is straight up over the phone, and said that my credit probably wasn’t great and I didn’t want to waste his time. They said they do a preapproval and expected to call me back by the end of Saturday afternoon, which they didn’t, which probably means I can’t get a car unless I go to one of those rip off places that say “have shitty credit? We will finance you!”

It’s so fucking depressing, because my ex tried his best to fuck over the finances when we were married, and then I took it over and I was being so responsible. And then he left me when I was on disability, and then I couldn’t get a new job, and the EI ran out and then I was on welfare, so I was starting from scratch.  Then a couple years later I went on short-term disability for depression, and got let go as soon as I got back, and I ended up finding a job before I got on welfare again, thank goodness, but I decided to go to the nonprofit credit consolidation place because I couldn’t keep up with the minimum payments for everything and I thought once I dug myself out I would be OK.

So now since then I’ve paid off over $10,000, and I’ve been on time every time except for last year when I paid two payments in one month instead of waiting for the first day of the next month and they wouldn’t count that as anything but a skipped payment for the month that I’d paid in advance for. Anyway, I would have enough to pay off the rest with what I’m going to get from insurance, and then all I would have for debt is some student loans. I’d actually have a positive net value if I dropped dead right now.

It doesn’t matter though, because now I don’t have a car and I live in an apartment where basically I just walk in the door and come to bed, and I have all the stuff for a life I’m not gonna live, and I so don’t want to fucking be here.

Crying like a baby.

I was going to quit the outpatient group, and had actually called and spoken to them yesterday about it. Then this morning came, and I couldn’t get out of bed. There didn’t seem any reason to get out of bed.  Why not sleep till noon and then go in to work at 1 o’clock?  I got all sad at the thought of just moving invisibly like that, invisibly going on the bus to my invisible work and then back to the house. So I went to today’s group, and told him that I’d like to try to go next week.

But I went to service Canada to give them a copy of my medical papers, and then I had to phone the EI  line from there and wait on hold and then get a new guy and be put on hold again, and then it turned out that I needed to have the numbers for January and February for how much I worked and how much I made, which I didn’t have, because those were at work. So I went to drive home because I don’t have money to park at work. It’s like $14 a day and they don’t take debit. So went home, caught the train to work,  got teary-eyed on the train and looked out the window and said sternly to myself “don’t fucking cry on the train!  Get a hold of yourself!”

Then I got to work and figured out the fucking EI, which is really hard because their periods don’t correspond with my pay periods and I  cried through the whole thing. I only got like an hour of work done and I feel like I’m at the point where I’ll never make the time up, so fuck it.  And I don’t have as much coming to me for EI as I had hoped, which sucks because there would’ve been no problem being off work and getting benefits for three months if my dick ass boss had allowed it.

I’ll basically have to wait until the next check to see what a normal average pay period paycheck will look like  but I think it’s going to be significantly less than what I was being paid before,  so I don’t really know how that’s going to work out with planning to try to go to Depeche Mode.

I just feel tired and sad.

I can’t afford to be depressed.

This is going to be a quickie, because I’m in the last hour of a day pass and have to get back to the hospital.

I asked my doctor this morning how long it would be before he decided whether this new drug regime was working and he said 3-4 weeks, “but I might not have to be in the hospital that whole time.”

So I went to work to talk to my boss in person, because I was worried I would cry on the phone and that I would make assumptions when I couldn’t see his facial expression. Before this he had been like “Your health comes first!”, and then that turned into “…Any idea of possible return dates to work?” and then today he was like “Another MONTH? Aren’t you feeling any better?” not in a jerk way, but in a way that made it clear that he thought it would be a matter of a few more days at maximum.

So then he said that he wouldn’t give me an answer on how long he could actually hold the job open for me, because he didn’t think that would be helpful, but “the sooner the better” and he wondered if I could start even a few hours a week because I was coordinating all these projects and now they’re kind of hung up because of me.  Then he said that now that he was aware that I might be absent from time to time, that he could get someone else to coordinate from now on (basically a demotion in duties because I’m unreliable.)

I can’t lose this job to depression; it would be the 3rd in a row and I just can’t go through that again. So I’m going to have to tell the psychiatrist tomorrow morning that I have to go back to work and see how much license he’ll allow me.  I’m so stressed.  I wanted to cut myself with something properly sharp for once just to release some of the tension and I cannot find my Exacto knives.  Aaaugh!