climbing back on the blogging bandwagon

I have not had the best week this week. I went on what I'm calling a Depression Bender for a few days, starting on Wednesday (my birthday, as it happens). I felt better on Saturday after doing a bit of Shadow Work, but today has been an anxious day, and I got to the point where my nerves were completely fried and I could not do anything else but take a nap. I do feel more stable and less anxious after my nap, though.

I thought I had found the perfect set up for watching over the Queen Mother while I went on vacation with Himself to Seattle. When I talked with the lady at SCRC, though, she informed me that the (reasonable) daily rate was for housing mom at the residential facility they work with. Problem is, who would come in and feed the cats? We boarded them during the fumigation of our condo, and that was a near disaster, as they quit eating and pooping and were downright miserable. (Oh yes, and when we got them home again, they puked for nearly an entire week!) When I asked after the hourly rate, I was informed that it would be twice as expensive as the residential price - and the rate of $13.50 per hour is HALF of what any agency in the area would charge.

The tricky part is that the Queen Mother doesn't necessarily need someone to stay all night with her, but she does need help in going to bed the first time, as it is very painful for her, and she usually doesn't get to be till about midnight. (At the moment, she can manage getting up to pee in the wee hours by herself.) She has also mentioned several times that she gets lonely when we have to leave the house to take care of our business. Translation: she relies on me to keep her company. :p

The idea that we wouldn't have enough money to have someone come and watch her, combined with the idea that I would have to give up Yet Another Vacation, on top of the pressure I (unwittingly) put on myself to have a "good day" on my birthday...it was all too much. We're now back to square one to find someone who can come and watch her, hopefully at a reasonable cost. This time, fortunately, Himself is helping me to look for someone. I am saving the research I have already done, because when we get the next infusion of money, I will be going through one of these agencies to bring someone in to spell me for respite.

And about money - the financial windfall has been used up. I'm trying very hard not to blame either Himself or myself for not being more thrifty with the money, and it didn't help that we had to pay a third of what we had received to his DC attorney. I admit, the outlook today isn't as bleak as it once was: the personal injury settlement is in progress, and we are waiting to hear from one of the insurance companies. (The other one has responded in a less than satisfactory way, and he might be pursuing mediation against them.) Himself's attorney in DC is set to present the idea that he is Totally and Permanently Disabled, which would bring his "service connection" to 100%. This would mean a big jump in his monthly pension, dental work covered by the VA, forgiveness of his student loan debt, and insurance for me. Himself is also planning on pursuing the original carpal-tunnel case further, as 2015 doesn't go back far enough, not when he has evidence regarding his condition dating back to 1993. On top of all of that, Himself and the Queen Mother are both set to receive Cost of Living increases starting in January, which will help.

Our financial situation isn't as bleak as it was, as we have definitive progress...but try telling that to my beyond-frazzled nervous system, which has been waiting and waiting and has no cushion left to absorb any perceived blows. Try telling that to my frayed emotions, which have been waiting and waiting for some sort of Relief and takes every setback like it's thermonuclear devastation. Try telling that to my weary spirit, which has traded Expectation for Faith, and has clung to expectations so hard, in a This or Nothing way, that these expectations are becoming toxic. In other words, the windfall was nice, but it didn't alter the fact that I'm still a Hot Mess inside.

This is why I'm returning to daily, or at least weekdaily, posting on the blog. It's when I stopped doing it regularly that I realized its importance: it was serving as a place where I could vent, as well as share, regardless of whether or not I had an audience. (I did/do appreciate the comments, though, so please keep them coming!) More, it was something I could rely upon within myself, and help me get through the day. If I did nothing else on some days but post on my blog, I was doing Something, and often times that was just enough to keep me afloat, or at the very least, ignoring the pressure that threatened to squeeze me into a bloody pulp. I'm already feeling better having reclaimed my "voice" and letting loose here, in fact.

Next I need to share the Good Stuff that's transpired, but I'll save that for the next day or two. Promise.