Admitting What I Can't Fix

Many of you have emailed me wanting to know how my doctor's appointment went Thursday afternoon. Well, it didn't.

I handed them the massive paperwork they'd sent me to fill out. My driver's license, insurance. "That will be a $200 co-pay for your deductible," the receptionist said.

I jerked my debit card back, and asked if I'd heard right. I had. I said "forget it" and walked away. I can't afford to spend money like that right now when I don't know where more will come from. And toward a deductible on insurance I am losing.

I made myself be angry. Sometimes it is the best way to cope. To get the adrenalin pumping. Adrenalin drives you, keeps you putting one foot in front of the other. 

Medical insurance in this country is a disgrace. 

I'm sure you're asking yourselves: Why don't I just go out and get a job? 

I'll explain something the best I can that is rather embarrassing to admit. I have never really addressed it even to myself. Because to do so makes me feel like a failure. 

I have panic episodes. Sometimes I can be fine in a store, for instance. But then hear a sound, and I am either led to another dimension of my brain. Or I am struck with panic. I start sweating, breathing hard, shaking. 

I don't know what triggers it, what sets it off out of the blue. But the obvious choice to me has been to limit going out at all. 

Have you any idea how embarrassing it is when people begin to stare at you, wondering what is wrong with you? And if I'm in line to pay, a clerk will ask if I'm all right, which will direct even more attention to me. When all I want to be is invisible right then. 

When I'm under strain such as I am right now, knowing my ex has lost his job, and likely now will never be able to get another, it is heightened. The worry of losing my house, means of transportation, financial support and health insurance is overwhelming. 

That I will probably have to pack up and move yet again so soon after getting here is draining. 

It is not feasible for me to go out into the world on a regular basis and be around people. The only way I can avoid the panic is to stay home. 

That does not make me a likely candidate for an outside the home job.

Which is why I'm doing what I'm doing.

I would like it very much if you would promise me something. Please do not judge people afflicted with such problems. Please don't assume that what you can do, they can do. 

For heaven's sake, please don't tell them to just get out there and get over it. That will send them cowering into a closet. 

Don't tell them they are talented and educated and therefore should be able to overcome this.

Just because you can't see fear and depression and pain, please don't think that means it isn't there. That is the worst thing you can do for yourself, your friend, neighbor or loved one who is suffering. 

Please give them your support. Trying to make them overcome this by themselves without help is pure folly. If you aren't a mental health professional, you are treading on thin ice. You may only make them feel more desperate and alone and ashamed.

And if I'm describing you, please know I understand completely. You cannot fix this by yourself, as I well know. Don't beat yourself up about it, because it is beyond your control. For whatever reasons. (And yes, I beat myself up about it, so I'm preaching to the choir.)

And now, with that being said, I am going to start sewing more Lollipop pillows. I function pretty well inside four walls. 

Someone gifted me these gorgeous whimsical fat quarters. 

I am going to immerse myself in their cheerful colors, and do something that brings me happiness and a feeling of aptitude. Where I feel safe.

{Note: Please email me privately if you have questions about this post.}