I guess I was vain enough to believe that anyone would want to hear the story of my life. And I was also naive enough to believe that I could quiet my mind enough to write about it in any type of interesting and beginning to present type of way.
But just like everything else in my life, I quit writing. I’m not sure why. Maybe because I entered the Psych IOP program and I just had a lot to focus on with that.
I’ve recently started going to CoDA meetings on Wednesday nights. They’ve got me thinking a lot about my life and the choices and decisions I have made and my role as the “victim”.
My depression is back to being heavy. Extremely heavy. My son has relapsed on heroin yet again, and I am still homeless. I recently found out that most people won’t rent to me because I have an eviction on my credit. That’s another case of me trying to help a “sick puppy” who took advantage of my kindness and screwed me over.
I am still on disability and looking at a possible back surgery soon. But in terms of my life and where it is at this moment… I find and apply for apartments and then get turned down because of my credit. For some reason I take it as a personal rejection and then it’s an instant 3 Days in bed sleeping and crying for the entire time.
I’ve stopped taking my pain medicine because it seems to increase my depression. So pain is a constant in my day.
I would love to have a dialogue of some sort with people here because I have no contact with the outside world. That feeling most depressed people have that “no one understands” is ingrained in my being.
So I’m not sure where to go from here. I’m not sure how to set priorities or how to get past these road blocks in my life, like the eviction that will haunt me for the next 7 years.
Anyways, I need to make this a regular habit because in some way, no matter how small, it helps me.