Well, I'm back. I managed to eke $48 out of nowhere in particular and bought myself another year of SG.
I had some kind of seizure or something last month while I was visiting friends in West Lafayette, Indiana, and as a result I ended up spending a night in the hospital. Apparently there's nothing really wrong with me, and they couldn't figure out why it happened. Regardless, that 16-hour hospital stay cost roughly $5200. And since I still don't have a job, I have no way to pay for it. So yay for more vaguely threatening letters and phone calls from collection agencies.
In addition to not having a job, I don't have anything to do here, either. No friends as such, no places to go, no fun things to do. And even if there were things to do, I couldn't do them because I have like negative money. Seriously. My bank account is overdrawn and even the jar on my desk that used to contain pocket change is empty. I think I'm past the worst of things, though -- since I don't have a shrink here, or health insurance, or money, I had to stop taking all my meds. Going through SSRI withdrawal for a second time (the first was in 2002) was really great, let me tell you. It finally stopped after about two months and I'm more or less OK now, at least on the outside. On the inside, though, it's pretty bad. I'm marginally suicidal and I'm afraid to talk to people (one of the reasons I don't have a job yet). I haven't dated or had sex in over two years, which is making me so crazy with angst that I've taken up cutting; there are now some noticeable scars on my arms.
I'm out of options, I think. There isn't anything or anyone here for me anymore. I have nothing to offer anyone and nothing to put an effort into now. I may as well be dead already, but I'm too scared of actually making that happen. Not afraid of death, as such, only afraid of getting there.
I'm open to suggestions.
I had some kind of seizure or something last month while I was visiting friends in West Lafayette, Indiana, and as a result I ended up spending a night in the hospital. Apparently there's nothing really wrong with me, and they couldn't figure out why it happened. Regardless, that 16-hour hospital stay cost roughly $5200. And since I still don't have a job, I have no way to pay for it. So yay for more vaguely threatening letters and phone calls from collection agencies.
In addition to not having a job, I don't have anything to do here, either. No friends as such, no places to go, no fun things to do. And even if there were things to do, I couldn't do them because I have like negative money. Seriously. My bank account is overdrawn and even the jar on my desk that used to contain pocket change is empty. I think I'm past the worst of things, though -- since I don't have a shrink here, or health insurance, or money, I had to stop taking all my meds. Going through SSRI withdrawal for a second time (the first was in 2002) was really great, let me tell you. It finally stopped after about two months and I'm more or less OK now, at least on the outside. On the inside, though, it's pretty bad. I'm marginally suicidal and I'm afraid to talk to people (one of the reasons I don't have a job yet). I haven't dated or had sex in over two years, which is making me so crazy with angst that I've taken up cutting; there are now some noticeable scars on my arms.
I'm out of options, I think. There isn't anything or anyone here for me anymore. I have nothing to offer anyone and nothing to put an effort into now. I may as well be dead already, but I'm too scared of actually making that happen. Not afraid of death, as such, only afraid of getting there.
I'm open to suggestions.
