Are Ya'll Ready For This?

Yesterday I had my "mental" appt. There were plenty of reasons to get anxious about the appt itself. My parents are out of town. That alone is cause for a meltdown. A friend of mine drove in to drive me to the appt since my parents were gone, and my aunt and uncle had a dental appt. Life is nuts. Yeah, I just wrote that. I am talking about crazy doctors and I said that. Anyway, I talked to one of you about this appt and it really helped (you know who you are). I took your advice and went in there and was me. That meant I only melted down in crying jags three times. I suppose that means the appt went well. You said to be honest and tell them how I feel when they asked the questions. Well, when they start asking about my pain, quality of life, and other stuff like that... I feel pretty good that I only broke down three times in retrospect. It helped that the main person asking the questions is a migraine sufferer. No one understands migraine pain like another person who has migraine pain. Her parting words to me were that I should be on SSDI with the severity of my migraines and bonanza of other problems. She also encouraged me to not give up if they deny me on this first rodeo. So, it was as good a first appt as I was gonna get. I prayed that God let the doctors see my situation as it really was and I feel like that happened. I can't ask for any more than that.

My appt with the regular doctor is after my parents get back in December. I will let you know how that one goes when it happens. I am going to do my best not to worry about it and pray the same way about it. I just want the doctors to see this whole mess as it really is. I don't want a hand out. I want some help up. And, eventually, I want to clean house. But it is all one day at a time.

Speaking of house cleaning... I spent some quality time with customer service on the phone. That would be the hosting service for my website. The fellow understood how ill-equipped I was to fix this problem, so he put up a page indicating my page was Under Construction. It also has my new email address on it. Now, I just need to find someone interested in my project and my site to design it. I am actively praying about that starting now. This thing needs to be a database with code to run a zip code search. That will likely be the most difficult part of the whole deal. The rest of it is just the pretty. There will be other pages that I will want to look nice. There will need to be links and all that jazz. But, the database deal is probably the toughest thing because it is specific and that code for the zip code thing is specific. Of course, lots of sites have it, so it isn't a big mystery; it is just specific. Yeah, if I use that word one more time, even I will puke. Done with it.

Anyway, there is a lot to be thankful for here, in spite of this mind splitting migraine that just won't get lost. Yeah, it is still lingering like a stalker boyfriend. Speaking of which, remember Flash? Well, check this! I don't think I ever gave you guys the full scoop on Flash. If you're confused right now, he is the last boyfriend... the cheater and the one who stole my medication. He was really bad news. I could get into even more bad stuff that he did, but I really want to move along in this story. Anyway, after I broke things off with him, and he swore he would never date again, because I was his one true love, he met someone inside of a week, and there were kissing pictures on his myspace inside of ten days. Yeah, some people move on faster than they think they will. Besides that, he was a cheater, he probably had a little something something going on the side already anyway. Moving on...

He convinced THAT GIRL to marry him. I about fell out when I saw that come through on his announcements on myspace. That happened (also) very fast. I suppose he wanted to seal the deal quick. You know, before she figured out who he REALLY was. You stick with someone long enough and you're bound to see beyond the flash and dazzle and all that. All that glitters isn't gold. This guy glittered. Man he knew how to put the shine on... I do remember it well. *sigh* Underneath all that shine is a big ole pile of crap.

Anyway, I logged into myspace a couple of days ago after not going there in forever, and saw that there was a message from Flash. Honestly, I was shocked. After we split, I didn't read his email. But we had been apart so long that I felt like this one was safe. Turns out that it was not from Flash at all; it was from Flash's wife. She must have sent it out to all of the women on Flash's myspace. It was a general announcement letting all of the girls know that she and Flash were through. Kaput. Getting a divorce. She was not so subtly making a grand announcement that he was back on the market. She didn't exactly say, "And let the bidding begin..." but she might as well have. It made me think of that old Shania Twain song WHOSE BED HAVE YOUR BOOTS BEEN UNDER. Oh, Flash, it looks like you did it again. Swing, batter, batter, batter, Swing, batter, batter, batter, Swing! I am just glad that I moved and he doesn't know where I live. I feel very thankful. Life is good.

This song goes out to Flash's wife. I would have told you what kind of man he was, but you wouldn't have believed me. I am sorry you had to experience that. You will know better next time. You got some painful schooling. I know. Been there. Done that. He teaches a tough curriculum.




image found at www.weheartit.com

FALLING OFF THE EDGE

We are going to step back into the present for this post. Unfortunately, it reflects my need for therapy more than it should! However, to help you understand it just a bit better I will give you just a tiny bit of background.

When I sold my house in 2006 and moved to FL, I was pretty much a bundle of nerves. The chronic pain of the migraines, combined with all of the stress, left me as one huge frayed nerve end. Thus, any time even a marginal amount of stress landed at my feet I lost it. And I mean lost it. We are talking total meltdown. It started with ranting and ending in a crying ball on the floor, couch, bed, whatever was closest. These also happened in public places because I was unable to control them. The DMV was one such place when I found out that there was an issue with my last name. Total meltdown right there. In front of everyone. When you are that far gone, you just don't care. Or maybe because you have no control over it, what is the point of caring? You can't stop it anyway.

I had one nearly every day at the house over my stuff. That lasted for about a month. Finally, I resigned myself to the fact that some of the stuff that I marked to come to FL got put in storage in GA and that was that. I could meltdown every day and it wouldn't change anything. Once I got used to the fact that I didn't know where anything was, it got easier. Then the meltdowns became restricted to more important things. Where is my debit card? Ahhhhhhh. Yeah, that kind of thing. It would have really helped had I been more organized. In time, that got better, too. How many times do you want to melt down because you misplaced something?

After the move to GA, I began melting down again when my migraines were SO bad right after we moved in. No surprise there. Ongoing chronic pain will do that. However, I had learned something after the first go-round with this and tried not to melt down over every little thing. I also tried not to meltdown in front of my mother all of the time. She always seemed to get the brunt of it in FL. They weren't directed at her; she was just the one witnessing me go off the rails and it wasn't pretty.

Yesterday was the big appointment with the bankruptcy attorney. It was the one to set everything in motion. They were taking down all of my information so that they could file it with the court. Honestly, I had not been looking forward to this all the way down the line, but I had hit a point of resignation about the whole thing. My dad could not continue to pay these bills. He didn't have the money. Everything was fine until we got to the part about my van. If I could go back in time and not buy this van, you have no idea how much I would do that. But, moving on...


The van is a 2004 and I got a loan from my uncle (via my grandma) for this vehicle. So, I was making the payments to my uncle as opposed to a bank or lending agency. This vehicle was also very upside down because it was the result of all The Operator's bad trade's throughout his lifetime (that is the long story part). In other words, I owed way more than the vehicle was worth. He would have gotten this vehicle in the divorce had I did not trust him to make the payments. Obviously, I didn't. Instead, he got my car which had no car payment, because I had paid it off. Ugh. You got some of the long story anyway. Sorry. Moving on...

Anyway, I started shedding everything I could shed a while ago. I knew that I needed to get rid of the van. I also knew it was going to be at a loss. So, my mom talked to my uncle about it. The actual value of the van is only $5,000 and I owe $15,000. Of course, that is about right. That is about how upside down my ex was... So, my mother took $10,000 out of her money to give my uncle and he said he would take the van. Well... when the subject of the van came up, the attorney said that the judge might very well decide to take the van back from my uncle, sell it, and use that money to pay my other creditors. The fact that my uncle was the lien holder on the van doesn't factor in because the van title was in my name. We had a written agreement, but because we are family, it doesn't really count. We went round about this several different ways. My mom asked several insightful questions. For instance, would my uncle get a portion of the sale from the van since he is also a creditor? No. After about five minutes of this she says something like she will have to pull another $5,000 out of her 401K to pay my uncle.


That is when I freaking lost it right there in that office. I was declaring bankruptcy because I am financially crippling my father. This is to save him from that. By declaring bankruptcy I am financially crippling my mother. She and my stepfather are hanging on by a freaking thread. They are talking about selling their house next year because they can't afford this one. They didn't anticipate all of the expenses, etc. They thought I would be working, etc.

And I went right over the edge. I've been there before. It's not a pretty place. In fact, it's dark and ugly and insanity rolls off the tongue. Your filter disappears and all of the things that hide in the closet and live under the bed come out and shriek in your ear. And you say words like "fucking" with strangers in the room like you would say "good day."


It's fucking ridiculous. It's fucking unfair. No matter what you do one of your fucking parents gets fucked. And all anyone cares about is their fucking money. And really the only solution to this whole fucking problem would be for me to swallow a whole goddamn bottle of my fucking pills so that no one would have a fucking thing to take from anyone anyone anymore. It's not like it would be any big fucking loss anyway.

Well that cleared the room of the paralegal. My mother just looked shell shocked. I am sure of it was the fact that she hadn't heard that much use of the word fuck in such a short period of time, or if she was thinking about counting my pills. Oh, I forgot about the crying. I ended my rant with lots of crying.

The paralegal comes back with the attorney who explains that they might not take my uncle's van, but they might. It depends upon the judge. So my mother says to me we should just start sending up positive stuff into the universe that the judge doesn't take the van. I am like, "Yeah, that worked so well with the key." We never did find the fucking key, for the record.