Actually, I feel like this trip will be…well it will be what it will be. The likelihood is high that it will be a disaster. I really need treatment right now and it’s so damn hard to find. So off I go to London, physically and mentally a wreck.
Some places do take Medicaid but not specifically from Massachusetts, they don’t contract with them. My case manager knows, as I do, that these Medicaid people are nothing but clerks. They are uneducated. I have phoned and this so-called case worker couldn’t even get into the computer to correct my address. From what I have read, you have to speak with their supervisors. I know this woman can’t access the computer, so obviously she can’t override a Medicaid refusal or create a “single-case exception” for me.
Who are the people who make these Medicaid decisions? Are they educated about medicine? Do they even have degrees? Or are they secretaries, data entry people, and other kinds of clerks? Are they lawyers, budget people, or politicians?
I don’t even want to think about all that stuff right now anyway.
I have an appointment with a new therapist as soon as I get back. Maybe I can just hang onto that. I’ll have someone to talk to, at least. Lord knows I cry and cry and cry all the time and feel so damn alone in this.
I have no real close friends at this point, no intimacy in my life. I used to have close friends but they are now gone or downsized. I do know a lot of people love me and care about me even though my family doesn’t. But everyone keeps me at arm’s length. Oh yeah, I recognize this. I think someone calls to say “hello” maybe…not sure maybe once every other month. It seems like I am always the one to initiate phone contact. A lot of the time I call, leave a cheery message with my phone number, and the person doesn’t call back.
When was the last phone conversation? I phoned someone to wish a happy birthday. The person seemed complimented that I had remembered, but after a few minutes wasn’t even paying attention to the conversation. I tried and tried to change the subject and inquire about what he was up to, asked about his life, his plans for the week, but it was no use, I couldn’t get the conversation going, and the person continued to indicate boredom, just no interest in being friends.
I don’t mind hearing “tap tap tap” of the keyboard while we are talking for a minute or so, but if it goes on for the entire conversation, then it’s obvious that the person doesn’t really want to be talking. If this happens during every conversation, then hey, I get the hint. Personally, I am unable to write an e-mail and carry on a conversation at the same time. Just can’t multitask like that. The exception is if we are discussing the e-mail that the person is writing.
Oh yes, and then there’s the TV, when the person shows no interest in talking and cares more about the TV program they’re watching. The best thing to do is to reschedule the call for a time when their TV program isn’t on.
My brother calls about once a month. The other one, the one that I think hates me, calls once every few months. The one that calls more frequently has this tactic with me. He calls while he’s nearing the end of making dinner. I can hear pots and pans and sometimes even sizzling. After about two minutes, he says his dinner is ready, and excuses himself. I’ve noticed that every now and then, maybe twice a year, he calls when his wife and kid aren’t around and then we seem to have a longer conversation, like about ten minutes.
I have spoken about the other brother before. I had a new thought about him. He has stated that he hates our mother. We used to have that connection, this understanding about how abusive she is and unhealthy to be around.
In February she developed a visible health problem, that is, she was suddenly unable to walk. Somehow, my brother saw this as a reason to snap to it and go help her out.
Now, I suppose my illness is less visible (they are oblivious to weight loss) and therefore less real to him. So when I phoned him from Mass General a year ago and told him I was hooked up to all sorts of medical machines, this somehow didn’t register with him. He lived an hour away and did not see me once, and didn’t call for two months.
Then, again, in February I told him I might not even make it to the hospital alive. He didn’t give a shit, just gave me a pat on the back, told me good luck, and wrote me off. I heard from him again two months later but I don’t know why he bothered. I guess that was sometime in April. I haven’t heard from him since.
I hear he sees my mom two or three times a week. She lives two towns over from me. He supposedly hates her….What can I conclude about this? I guess he despises me even more.
She has money and I don’t…does this have anything to do with it? Is he suddenly paying attention to her to make sure she leaves him something in his will? Probably.
I have a handful of nasty letters I plan to write before I leave town. You may say it’s completely stupid, but how can I ruin what’s already gone to pot anyway? It might actually give me a sense of satisfaction to tell my brother to go to hell. I also plan to contact one or two people out of my past and tell them that what they did really hurt me.
One is C, someone I knew in 1982 and 1983. This person has become a therapist. Oh yes, it wasn’t hard to track her down. I was kinda surprised cuz it wasn’t her major. Oh, so understanding, such bullshit. Maybe she doesn’t remember that she freaked out because of my mental illness and dumped me just like that, just when I needed a friend the most. She was actually my best friend at the time. Poof! Out of my life.
I really think the only reason my abusive roommate kept on being my friend was so that she could have someone to verbally abuse and yell at and put down. She really was crap. She wanted me on meds just so that she could steal them from me. I remember giving her a bottle of pills I no longer took. I was on a benzo, and I noticed pills disappearing from the bottle. Once, there was one capsule remaining. It seemed suspicious. I opened it and there was no powder in the capsule. She was drunk all the time and destroyed a lot of my property in her drunken rages. I think also she used me for the money, or, rather, my parents’ money.
Once, I was toying with the idea of spending half the week at home and half the week out of town at a rinky-dink halfway house, only I hadn’t yet found out how much the place sucked. Well, the abusive roommate phoned me at the hospital and said she didn’t want me to go to the halfway house because then she couldn’t use my car. I AM NOT KIDDING YOU! After she hung up, I started crying and slammed the phone down. The nurse started yelling at me for slamming the phone. I couldn’t talk to those staff people, so I told my psychologist (who came to the hospital) and he said he would talk to the staff and explain that this roommate of mine is about as heartless as you can get. I was so, so glad to be rid of her when she finally moved out! And yet I sweet-talked and said how much I’d miss her, lying cuz I was afraid of incurring her wrath and setting off more abuse. She and her husband were so happy when I went to Gould Farm and they had full use of my car. They ruined my car, by the way. I had to junk it after they were done with it, and my brother made me promise that I would never lend the new car to anyone or let anyone get their mitts on it. Well, no, she is one person I am not sending a nasty e-mail to. I wonder if she’s even figured out how to use a computer or write an e-mail, anyway. She wasn’t too bright.
Oh, I am just such an anger machine. Just a bitch no one wants to hang out with. I have no value as a person. You can take this any way you want.