still here

i'm still here.

i'm WAY behind on weekly posts.

but i'm still here.

still frustrated.

still scared.

still bored as fuck.

still hate everything.

i'm particularly frustrated this week by finances.

who isn't?

i know. everyone is stressed about finances right now.

i'm jealous of the ones who are worried because of covid. at least there's an eventual end in sight.

i'm just straight up fucked.

i found out last week that no, my shiny new insurance doesn't pay for ANY mental health care.

as in NONE.

as in you have to reach your $5,000 deductible before they pay anything. that's 50 weeks of $100/per appointment.

there's only 52 weeks in a year...and i only go every other week

i'm sure it's my fault. i'm sure i didn't read the packet close enough.

i'm used to insurance that only requires a $20 copay or, for the short time i was on state insurance, fully covered.

but nope.

absolutely nothing.

besides a bill for services not covered.

i changed jobs, i changed careers, for NOTHING.

i completely fucked up.

and also, the child support i thought was on pause? not so much.

so between the pay cut and having medical deducted from my paychecks i'm bringing home $600 less per month. then throw in the $1k drop per month adjustment for no longer receiving child support AND now paying $423 per month for outgoing child support.

so. in the last year i've had to adjust for $2k less per month. when my total monthly income was only $3800.

so.

granted, i'm not the best at math, but that's...*sigh*

i was getting ready to adjust to this BEFORE everything with the lockdown happened.

i thought i had a reprieve, and now...

and, if you didn't know, child support is VICIOUS. or i'm just scared of everything. or both.

because of how long the case took to mitigate, i started out the initial judgement with 5 months of back support which means there are liens out against me, the IRS has been notified, there's a STACK of mean and threatening letters about losing my license, jail time, etc. for not paying the debit. THAT I JUST ACCRUED. literally in the same week as the final judgement papers i received a notice of lien.

funny (not funny) how it took them YEARS to track down my ex and make sure he paid child support but it took only 5 months to obliterate me.

it's just...

i feel like i try so hard to fight for myself only to be smashed down.

oh, you want a job where you're not groped every day and there's not constant hate speech? $5 hour less.

oh, you want to be able to sleep at night and not have to worry about being murdered by your own child? here's a support order and a notice from the IRS.

oh, you want to work on your mental health so you're not thinking about dying every day? ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...MONEY PLEASE.

none of this is because of the stay-at-home orders, but the lockdown hasn't helped.

i was doing fine for a while but it's been WAY too long since i've interacted with another human which, even for me, is extreme.

and it makes being single that much harder.

yes, i know being stuck in stay-at-home with a partner/family/roommate/whatever isn't sunshine and lollipops for everyone. i get it. and i honestly can't imagine sharing my itty bitty space with someone,

but there's also something to be said for having someone to talk to, maybe hug if it gets really bad. 

aside from the 30 second interactions with employees at grocery/target pick ups, i haven't talked to a real human being in person in a while.

well, aside from the neighbor that knocked on my door last week which was...awkward at best. no, i'm not going to invite you in, neighbor who isn't actually a neighbor and is the boyfriend of a neighbor (that i don't know at all...i *think* it's the lady with the yappy little dog).

but that's just...

no thanks.

at least most of my work clients/vendors are being very polite letting me chatter a bit before getting down to brass tacks.

i'm still trying. i'm meditating almost every day (sorry saturday).

vitamins. food. water. sunshine (through windows). music. showering.

oh, and i very, VERY quickly remembered why purple is a particularly mean color to pick when your hair maintenance isn't on point...

ahem.

i'm still trying to muddle through. reading still is impossible. writing...i've moved my notebook/pencil around with me every day for weeks without writing a damn word. crafting/art? ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. 

crappy shows on hulu that i don't actually watch are about all i've accomplished.

it feels like i'm stuck in this weird space of waiting for stay-at-home to end but knowing it won't fix anything for me when it DOES end.

i still won't be able to afford to go anywhere.

i'm frustrated.

i'm scared.

i'm bored.

i'm lonely.

i'm angry.

spin the fucking feelings wheel and no matter what it lands on i'm sure i've felt it this week.

i tried to clean/purge this weekend only to realize there's nothing to do with the stuff once you do that. so. everything just went back where it started. and entire weekend completing an exercise in futility.

at least all my plants are still alive.

and i've only gained 3 lbs.


fuck it.

FUCK. 

fucking fuck.

ok. this whole writing project is supposed to be me being honest and talking about everything, even the scary stuff. not just the whiny bitch bullshit.

so.

fine.

FUCKING FINE.

LET'S TALK ABOUT DEATH.

i'm terrified of dying.

i know that sounds weird from someone who has thoughts of death on the daily (yeah, again).

but fuck am i scared of dying.

what would happen to stella?

how long would it take for anyone to notice if i died in my apartment?

who the fuck would be stuck cleaning up my apartment and all my bullshit (thus the attempted purge this weekend). i've been the person doing the clean up. it's fucking terrible.

i need to update my will. my life insurance is decent and i want to make sure it doesn't go to the wrong people.

should i try to make amends with anyone?

who gets stuck dealing with my ashes?

how fucking frustrating would it be to die not mattering? no accomplishments. no reason for people to remember you ever existed. if my life was coco, i wouldn't even make it to the underworld village.

i don't have an in-case-of-emergency, i have a brother that lives on the opposite side of the state who doesn't like to talk about heavy things and i'm pretty sure death is one of the heaviest things.

although he did do well at handling my dad's estate. so. at least maybe that part will be taken care of.

it's a lot.

i was doing check-ins with people last week and found out one of my first responder friends was at home in isolation due to a cough.

he was in the waiting time between the test and the results (thankfully negative).

with all the news and new statistics coming out it really made me stop and think.

more and more it's sounding like WHEN, not IF you get this virus. the effort to flatten the curve was never to get rid of the virus, just an effort to mitigate the resources required to care for people. everyone would need a hospital at some point, just hopefully not all at the same time.

and now, beyond the WHEN, it's a matter of how bad, and no one seems to know how to predict that.

only old people.

well, old people plus compromised people.

well, old people, compromised people, regular aged people.

well, old people, compromised people, regular aged people, and kids.

well...

FUCK. JUST SAY FUCKING EVERYONE AND NO ONE KNOWS HOW IT WILL AFFECT THEM.

now they're showing "young" (aka anyone under the 65+ category) are getting strokes after recovery.

so, here's this thing that's evolved so rapidly (well, our knowledge of it has anyway) that now is basically inevitable, with a scale of sick to DEATH.

and i get that it's not really different than the majority of death anyway. you never know when you could trip on a sidewalk and die.

all it takes is one toilet seat from an international space station.

but someone who thinks about death on the daily, i really don't like thinking about death.

i don't have my own ISBN number in the library of congress.

i've never had a successful partnership.

i haven't accomplished a single damn thing in my life.

my kids haven't even taken the necessary classes to be able to property dance on my grave (although peeing on it shouldn't be too difficult to figure out).

for being very caviler about death, i really don't want to die yet.

and i know i'm a fucking raging cunt.

i can still pay my rent. i can still buy groceries and toilet paper. i still have a job to clock into at 7:00 every morning.

i know there's 26.5 million people that can't say the same thing this week.

i know there's 50k+ people that would love to worry about anything right now.

all my therapy tools are SCREAMING at me in my head right now.

stop comparing. stop wallowing. find a positive. make a change.

YEAH.

CAUSE THE LAST SEVERAL CHANGES I MADE WENT SO WELL.

AND ALL MY HARD THERAPY WORK HAS TOTALLY PAID OFF. OBVIOUSLY.

anyway.

i'm still here.