Posted in anxiety, C-PTSD, cats, chronic pain, community, crowdfunding, depression, disability, health, homeless, homelessness, housing, job hunting, life, medical, music, Personal, poverty line, PTSD, society, storage, urgent

7/18: Updatessss…..

Lots of fur has been flying in my life of late.

Quick aside: Yes, still need help getting storage caught up. Really need to get it caught up for once and for all. Then I can deal with each month as I go. I just finished a four day run of tasks, but a chunk of that income will go to keeping my cell phone alive as I need it for that work. (They just called as well. I said I’d get some funds at the start of the month and then ended up using them for other stuff… so yeah… help?)

People are always amazed at my hourly rates for Taskrabbit. I inevitably get the “man, you should be rolling in dough” when I’m not. I can go 2 weeks without a task and then, like the last few days, get slammed with several. I had four tasks in four days, during a heatwave. Only one place had A/C. Today is my self-mandated rest day.

So, here’s the other stuff happening of late:

Housing: I don’t remember if I mentioned it before, but I got to the top of the waitlist for an SRO in North Portland. Problem #1: I still can’t afford the rent on it. Problem #2: My alarm bells for my PTSD went off when I was up there to fill out the application. As it’s a co-ed building with people of all ages and many disabled, there were many there who made me feel uncomfortable.

Also included in housing: I’ve been given a two-week extension here at the shelter, instead of the usual month-long extension. I’m at 4 months, which is the preferred length of stay, but I need steady income and safe housing. I don’t really have either at the moment.

Disability: I talked with the legal assistant who works with my attorney today. My case is now in the review stage. She said it could be 30-90 days before the judgment is made. Then another 60+ days before the brief is written.

Now, if I get a favorable decision, I can go ahead with General Assistance (meeting to apply for it next month), which can help with rent, etc until disability kicks in.

In all likelihood, I may not see funds until Christmas at this rate. If I get a favorable decision.

Shelter Life: Even with everything else going on, I have the added stress of living in this shelter. Anyone who wonders why many homeless people get bitter and angry, come stay here for a few months. With resources stretched thinner than month-old roadkill and people who can’t afford decent housing, it’s rough here. If one were to compare the lot of us, I have some of the highest education of residents, yet here I am. Extensive education doesn’t keep one from being homeless. It’s just a longer fall to the bottom.

Being disabled in a multitude of ways also makes it difficult to find work. I can’t just apply for anything and everything. I can’t stand for very long, sitting for more than 2 hours is painful as well. Due to my vocal cord issue, I can have difficulty on the phone for extended periods. My voice just cuts out. For being trained as a singer, that alone hurts. I miss singing.

There’s been a lot of fighting and arguing around here. The bullies are still around and being as asshole-ish as ever. One difference is that the main one knows not to directly mess with me. I’ve stood up to her a few times now, very loudly and publicly, so she harasses others instead.

Portia: We had some health issues last week where she threw up every bit of food and a hairball (she mats, almost never gets hairballs) for two days straight. Took her to Dove Lewis and have a bill to pay now. That night, she threw up what I eventually found out was bile. Only the once, thankfully. I took her to see her normal vet the next day (who comped the visit). She did a physical exam (I can’t afford bloodwork and all just yet) and found no major issues like an obstruction or full bladder. Her teeth and gums looked good as well. Despite her age (12) and sensitive skin/stomach, she’s pretty damn healthy.

Housing Option: While I’m aware that the big thing is affordability, I also need to get into someplace that’s more… normal. I’m at the point where sharing a kitchen and bathroom with a few people is reasonable to me (as opposed to sharing with 20 other women, some of whom don’t grasp the concept of cleaning up after themselves). There may still be spaces available at University Pointe which is unofficial housing for PSU. Not as cheap as an SRO, but I’d be sharing with no more than 3 other people. Much more manageable.

Job Hunting: As mentioned above, finding work within my parameters isn’t easy. Getting interviews is even more difficult. I can’t just apply to warehouse/factory/retail/fast food jobs. My back and my PTSD would never let me get very far. I used to love working retail, but re-injuring my back 5 1/2 years ago and then again last December (I should probably never leave my home that month) has made returning to it nearly impossible. I tried using a stool at my last retail job, but it pressed against my sciatic nerve, so I had to stop. My irritability from my PTSD doesn’t help. I’ve gotten worse at being around others. So, limited facetime in a job is best.

So, where does that leave me?

Not many options. But I’m trying.


Yes, I have my days where getting up and doing stuff just feels impossible. Days when hopelessness overwhelms me. I’m doing what I can to fight it, to stay positive, but is isn’t easy.

But this is my life in a nutshell at this moment. I may start another YouCaring just because… or GFM. I don’t really like either one. But this would cover vet bills, initial cost of pet insurance, and storage… I’ll keep y’all informed.

~A

Advertisements
Posted in anxiety, bugaboos, crowdfunding, depression, disability, emergency, eviction, food cravings, homeless, homelessness, job hunting, life, storage, urgent

6/25: Crowdfunding and all that…

Life is what it is at times. Since the post yesterday about all the stuff going on, more has bubbled to the surface. Gossip, bullying, ice cream, sabotage (didn’t work, so y’all can suck it!), more drama and gossip/bullying… you name it.

I know the concept of a women’s shelter is for personal safety and all, but man… anyone who thought putting 60 women under one roof was a good idea was not too bright. Or at least never had more than one woman/girl at any given time living in their lives.

I could delve into political stuff here, but not on this post. That topic will be its own post.

Right now, I’m stuck. I have a possible chance at moving into a shared “student housing” apartment building, but don’t have the funds yet. Hopefully I’ll get approved for disability, which will be a huge factor. But that won’t happen yet. So, yeah, I’m stuck. I’m struggling to get funds to save my storage from auction yet again. I know I’ll have some, but need to get at least half of 1300 so it can be pulled. I have $300 coming in from late last week, and some donations on FB, but not enough to get to the halfway point. Funds previously sent have gone to bills. As much as I’d have loved to set them aside for storage, there were other things more urgent. I’d be further along.

I’m also trying to find somewhere to stash some bins of things one friend was stashing for me but has threatened to get rid of at the end of the month if I don’t retrieve them. I need to either cram them into storage, if I’m able to get it paid up completely, or find somewhere else to stash them. At least until shit settles down.

So, applying for jobs I may have difficulty keeping one way or another. Looking at different housing options. Trust me, I’d love to have my own bathroom and kitchen, but sharing either with just one or two people is freaking paradise compared to sharing three toilets and four showers with 20 other women and a kitchen where my food gets pilfered regularly.

For now, focus on storage. Get it pulled from auction. That matters the most right now. Then housing and work and all the other things running around in my life.

Oh, and enjoying the look on the face of my ice cream thief when they find I salted it. I play dirty when I need to.

~A

Posted in anxiety, bugaboos, C-PTSD, chronic pain, community, crowdfunding, depression, disability, emergency, friends, health, homeless, homelessness, housing, job hunting, life, observations, poverty line, PTSD, storage, urgent

6/12/18: Things… and #crowdfunding

Among other things, I am back to needing help with storage. I did okay last month, but various little things absorbed what I made and this month has been slower so far. I believe auction is at the end of this week, so the 15th. I owe just under $1300 and if I can get as much of that as possible (at least half) before auction, I should be okay.


I had my hearing for disability this morning. It went well, despite my lack of voice. I think that almost helped when it came to the idea of doing clerical work. I can’t answer phones when my voice may randomly cut out without warning. Vocal Cord Dysfunction is what it’s called, and lots of things trigger it such as fumes from bleach or mold and mildew. Without going into too much detail, my lawyer said he feels the judge sensed I was credible in my various issues that keep me from many jobs. Can I work? Yes, but there are so many restrictions that my field of possibilities is narrow. All of it put together reaffirms what I’ve been telling people all along: give me an office with tech and research topics to dig through and I’m a happy person. No customers, no phone switchboard/multiline phones, etc.

I also did the one bonehead thing I never thought people actually did. When I was sworn in, I raised my left hand when she said to raise my right. Let’s just say if I have to do that again, I’ll have plenty of coffee beforehand. Never go to a hearing uncaffeinated.


I have all kinds of “I wish people would stop…” or “I can’t fucking believe this happened…” rants, but I think I’ll do those another time.

I’ve had my share of frustrations lately. Who hasn’t? Living in a homeless shelter, I hear it all. Some of it I wish I didn’t. We have one day where everyone is all cool, and then the next people are sniping at each other over little nothings. It’s a women’s shelter with 60 residents as well as staff. I hear about health issues, dealing with parole officers, craving things, family members getting into trouble, you name it. I’m here because I couldn’t get a damn job in time before I was evicted. No alcohol or drug issues. No parole. But here I am.


I need to get back to cleaning up my room. Need to organize the crap out of everything. I’ve gotten two warnings now that my room was unprepared/possibly over what I’m allowed. I need to get back into storage ASAP so I can secure things and not get more warnings.

Halp?

~A

Posted in anxiety, creativity, depression, friends, job hunting, life, silliness

5/9/18: Eeyore? Nay, I’m r-r-Rabbit! Dammit!

This morning, the lady who runs the job group here at the shelter gave me some “feedback” about my self esteem.

“Amanda, you need to work on your persona that you want to present to potential employers. Every time you come to group, you’re like Eeyore looking for his tail.”

Eeyore?

Granted, I’m quiet and very much an introvert. But Eeyore???

After that, I sat down up here on my floor and mentioned this to a couple of the other residents on this floor. I mentioned this comment from her and they both looked rather puzzled. So I gave my own opinion:

“I don’t know where she gets Eeyore. I’m more like Rabbit.”

They were both silent for a second and then started laughing. One said, “Oh you are so much more Rabbit. I can see that.”

I love Tigger as well, and I used to lean more toward Tigger activity-wise back in my 20’s, but now? Definitely more Rabbit. I’m not sure why I chose Rabbit this morning, but they agreed that it fits, so there must be something to it.

After typing the above paragraph, I decided to see if anyone has done the analysis of the characters. Yup. Here’s a good business one. And yes, Rabbit fits about 90%.

~A

Featured Image by JD Hancock

Posted in anxiety, cats, chronic pain, crowdfunding, homeless, homelessness, housing, job hunting, life, Personal, storage, urgent

5/8: Stealth Dragon (and #crowdfunding)

So, I’ve been running around to appts and all kinds of things. In the past week or so, my task hires have been picking up, so there is income. Not enough to cover storage. WHen we saved it from auction last month, we got just over half of the 1400-ish. So there was 600 by end of April and now another 302 on that… climbing back up. Any help is appreciated.

Also, for some reason, my hotspot from my other phone is no longer letting me do stuff, so between it and the shelter wifi, my connectivity is sucking hard. If someone I know has an xfinity account with hotspot service, I’d love them forever if I could have access to the hotspot service.

I’ve applied for a few jobs and waitlists for housing, but it’s all a very slow process.

I’m sitting in a Starbucks in NW PDX as I arrived early for a small task. I’ve officially given my first blood sacrifice to IKEA. Specifically to the PAX wardrobe. A few layers of skin got sliced and pulled back just below my nail bed. Not fun.

In other medical stuff, Portia is switching FROM Gabapentin, which the vet gave her for the adjustment to the shelter life around dogs. And she’ll be starting on Prozac. I need to get her calmer to be around the dogs without charging them and hitting the baby gate in the doorway.

And I’m switching pain meds TO Gabapentin and away from narcotic pain meds. We’ll see how it goes.

I’ll try to keep things updated more in the coming days. Internet connection allowing, of course. I’ve had a few ideas swirling around in my head for posts.

~A

Posted in anxiety, bugaboos, C-PTSD, community, crowdfunding, depression, disability, dreams, emergency, empath life, eviction, faith, family, friends, grief, health, homeless, homelessness, job hunting, life, Personal, PTSD, society, storage, urgent

4/3/18: Rambling Doubts

(Yes, still urgently #crowdfunding to save storage by the 12th. I have until 4/12 to come up with the money. It’ll be more than the $1200 that was my total last month. Add another 305 or so to that and we get to $1500. Pimp my blog out to whomever you can think of who might be willing to share. I don’t have the guts to ping famous people.)

I question my role in society. I have no interest in “fitting in” yet I want and need work that can sustain my life. I don’t need lots of fancy things. Books, music, reasonably decent tech. I don’t need cable.  Just decent wifi. I do like a few fancy things. A new pair of Docs or that antiquarian book I’ve been lusting after for over a decade… but for the most part, I like the little things that make me smile.

I still feel incomplete. This is not the “I need someone to complete me” type of incomplete. I feel like part of me has been ripped away and I don’t know where it went. I don’t fear my past, but I am hypervigilant about people in the present. Because of my PTSD, because I can’t stand touch from men. I make male friends and acquaintances ask permission before hugging me. Men on transit sitting next to me or standing too close make me tense up and my anxiety and heart rate both rise.

Right now, I want to run. I want to get my passport and run. Save all my stuff in storage and then pack my bags and run with my cat in tow. Live in a space in Germany or France or stay in a small house in my great-grandfather’s home village in Switzerland for a while. Get away from things that I feel are holding me back. Reconnect with my family history and experience life away from so much of our U.S. mentality.

But money is needed for any of that, and I can’t even get storage caught up or pay for my passport. Let alone running away.

I am stuck. Maybe it doesn’t seem like it to others, but this is where I am. I have tried getting work in fields where others around me say “you could easily get work in this field.” Yet, no interviews, not even email rejections. I am adrift in a society that doesn’t value the weirdos like me. The ones who have multiple abilities.

I wonder at times if there is anywhere in any society on this planet that appreciates weirdos like me.

I’ve never felt as if I belonged in our society. I’m out of place. But do I fit anywhere? I wish I knew. I’m currently limited by my physical disabilities and my PTSD and its side effects. How do I land a job where I’ll have time on transit around people who will likely make my anxiety skyrocket? Then there’s the thought of a remote job… and then we have my ADD and… SQUIRREL!!!

You get the idea.

I also feel like I’m trying to explain who I am and what I need to the world and no one is listening to each word. Like back when my dad would tell my sister something about me and she’d only here “Amanda…. Wants this….” and then I’d get an email berating me for trying to get dad to buy it for me, which I wasn’t. As if my own words don’t count. My experiences don’t count. That my life, somehow, doesn’t count. I know it does. But that feeling of invisibility returns hardcore.

~A

 

Posted in anxiety, C-PTSD, community, crowdfunding, depression, emergency, friends, homeless, housing, job hunting, life, Personal, poverty line, PTSD, society, storage, urgent

3/19/18: #crowdfunding, packing, and shameless begging

The main reason I do need the help with saving storage this time around is because my income the last few months has been really low. I’m hoping it picks up now that IKEA has acquired Taskrabbit, which is the company I work through to get clients. I do also still need to get a steady job.


I also finally got my heading scheduled for disability. In June. We shall see how this goes.

I’m also packing stuff up tonight to move to the shelter.

My window overlooks the courtyard, so nice and quiet as far as I can tell. The room isn’t huge, but still clean and quiet.

I wish society didn’t pass homeless people and the issue by. Ignoring us won’t make us disappear. It just makes the problem worse. We are the invisible.

My mind is all over the place right now, so this post is reflective of that.


Any help, sharing this post or donating… or both…. both is a good option if you can.

~A

Posted in anxiety, C-PTSD, cats, community, crowdfunding, depression, disability, dreams, emergency, family, friends, grief, health, homeless, housing, job hunting, life, medical, Personal, poverty line, PTSD, society, storage, urgent

3/8/18: #crowdfunding storage, stashing life in cubbies, and #ptsd

Trying to step up my game for the blog. The more I post, the more visibility. The more visibility, the better my chances are of saving my storage unit and everything in it. Which is damn near everything I own. Being homeless sucks ass.

My goal right now with storage is to get it paid up before the end of March. It goes to Auction in April. But auction isn’t the only urgent reason.

There’s a very real possibility Portia and I will be getting a pet room at a local homeless shelter, maybe even by the end of the month. Not sure yet of when, as there are several move-outs coming up (Placement Supervisor and I chatted today). I’m limited in how much I can bring. The equivalent of two large garbage bags of personal items. Portia’s supplies are not counted in that. I’m also assuming food is not counted either (I hope. Despite my limitations on space, I do have a fair bit of food and cooking supplies), but I’ll ask.

I’ve accumulated things since the eviction. Some of came from storage, some was purchased for various reasons. You name it. But I certainly have more than two garbage bags worth of things. So, there are two options:

1: Get storage caught up and work on KEEPING it caught up, so I can retain access to everything. This means scrounging up over 1K in 3 months of storage rent and late fees, etc. My TR work has been minimal since December and I’m concerned about saving everything. Things for Portia and things like cleaning supplies and vitamins and…. well, you name it. It adds up and has destroyed what I have had come in. Much of the funds raised have also gone to various recurring things like paying down on my CareCredit card… Those little things add up when your income is less than $300 each month.

2. Find someone local who is willing to let me stash the rest of my things I currently have with me until storage DOES get caught up. (Letting it get auctioned off is NOT an option… understand?)

Being at the shelter as opposed to where I currently am means a few things: I’ll have a caseworker helping me with housing stuff. That’s a big one. I do still need a job, which is slowly getting back on track. My Voc Rehab counselor left VR a couple months back and I didn’t know. Around the same time, my VR coach (hired from an outside firm for the ‘grunt’ work of helping me) also dropped off the face of the planet due to a family crisis. I got to meet my new VR counselor this week and he let me know that my coach is now starting to return to work. (As it happens, my primary doc has also apparently gone on personal leave and no idea when she’ll return, so ALL these people who have been mainstays in my life have been out of contact). I do now have a therapist, although she’s currently in the process now of getting authorization from my insurance for however many visits they allow me to have to battle my #PTSD.

So… life is shifting once again, but into a completely different and more structured environment. I have -honestly- felt like my life is in flux and unstable since my dad died in 2014. He was my rock. He kept me grounded while simultaneously lifting me up. Reminding me that I can do the things I love to do and never give up on my dreams.


Last night’s poem was how I felt at that moment. Yesterday, I had the third visit with the new therapy place and we went over the results of the interview, testing and a diagnosis. They concur with my GP about the PTSD diagnosis, which is good. So I see hope for things to come, but still feel held back by some “invisible force” which I use Tule Fog to describe it. If you don’t know what Tule Fog is, it’s a very thick ground fog that can and has caused many vehicle accidents in years past. The Central Valley in California got it a LOT. I have family in the Fresno area, so we hit TF a lot. When it’s really bad, you can barely see six feet beyond the grill of your car. Hence why it can cause accidents. You slow down when driving in it because your reaction time is impaired because you can’t see far enough ahead to stop in time.


Some things are changing for the good and others are way up in the air since I’m struggling financially.

It’s been a week since I had to call 9-1-1 for what could have been a heart attack, but was a massive panic attack. I was (and still am to some degree) pissed off at the ER staff as they didn’t seem to hear me when I told them I’ve had massive panic attacks before, one even landing me in the ER like this one. The pain continued on until almost 30 hours later. After another massive pain strike the next night, I took a muscle relaxant and a valium left over from before I was ‘weaned’ off of it a month ago and the next morning, I had very little pain from it. It was not a “pulled muscle” like the ER folks said. I know the difference, folks. No, really. I’m one of those elusive patients who fucking listens to her body and knows when something is wrong and knows the fucking difference between nerve pain, pulled muscles, etc…

Anywhoooo…

Share info, link back to this post or my blog in general, keep watching for things… the PP link is the fastest and easiest access. I also have a fundraiser on FB, but they do take a chunk… just like everyone else. Any and all help is greatly appreciated. Share, retweet, donate if you can… Sharing does make a difference.

Another poem tonight… or even more… who knows…

~A

Posted in anxiety, C-PTSD, cats, chronic pain, community, crowdfunding, depression, disability, emergency, faith, friends, grief, health, homeless, housing, job hunting, life, medical, peace, Personal, poverty line, PTSD, society, storage, transitions, urgent

3/5/18: Panic Attack and Anxiety Observations (and #crowdfunding, of course)

A few gathered bits from FB posts or intended posts, reflecting on the last few days of medical fuckery.

***

One good thing that did happen today: while talking with the doc, I mentioned I’d been on Celexa for a year and then we switched to Cymbalta a few months ago to see if that worked better. I think, due to its nature, it didn’t exactly help my anxiety and the panic attack. Since I’m under extreme stress and Celexa is good for anxiety, she was all too happy to switch me back. Cymbalta didn’t seem to really do much for me, while Celexa at least helped my heart med to keep my HR down. She wasn’t keen on my GP numbers, but if the Celexa can help with that as well, I may not need more heart meds.

***

My client today asked about what had happened the last few days. I was supposed to do this task yesterday, but vertigo was making things difficult, so we rescheduled for today. I told her about the panic attack. She said she had no idea panic attacks could cause pain.
Severe attacks can. Some will remember a few years ago when I ended up in the OHSU ER with one. The pain from that one lasted maybe 15 minutes tops. Which is why this one concerned me so much. The pain wasn’t subsiding. In fact, it didn’t fully dissipate for roughly 30 hours. Two major spikes, sending me off the pain scale, almost exactly 24 hours apart. Taking the meds I did Friday night sent my brain and body the right signal. Still had lingering side effects (hence the vertigo Sunday), but doing better overall. Hopefully the change back to Celexa will help.

***

Cats:

Now that I know it was a nasty panic attack from hell, I realize that it may be a good thing that my airhead kitty is the one who remains. If JoJo were still alive during these last few days, I’d have a half-nekkid JoJo-kitty and hairballs all over this room.
When I was stressed, she was stressed. And when she was stressed, she overgroomed obsessively and then puked up hairballs that could be museum-worthy.
I still love her and miss her yowling morning alarm and “in your face” headbutts, but for her sake, it’s good she is watching from the other side of the Rainbow Bridge.
I miss you, my soul-kitty. Now, stop beating up Jack.

***

And an observation from being on transit today:

On my way to the task today, there were several folks on the bus with “granny” carts. Last dude to get on was an angry man. That’s really the best way to describe him.
Don’t get me wrong, I have my “fuck the world/angry at the world” days/moments. Plenty of them. But I do my best to not put ALL the blame for my life onto society. Is part of it “society’s” fault? Quite likely. But I take the brunt of it. I fuck up. I make mistakes. I take the blame for those things. This man, though, was so angry at the world. Blamed the bus driver, the bus, the others on the bus, etc for his having a bad day. The driver warned him and the others at that stop that there may not be enough room for everyone’s carts. He was right. They got one stop and he was blocking the way… there was no room for him and he blamed everyone else for his problem.
It was hard for me to sit where I was and be right in the middle of his anger zone.
I don’t know what happened in his life to make him that way, but I hope he finds some peace.

***

So, I have a couple of not-really-Tarot decks. One is all animal guides. I shuffled them this evening and pulled three cards. The first two… well… I think they were trying to get a certain message across. Read the brief messages on them.

Take some time out of your usual life and spend it in some solitude.
Take time to rest and recuperate rather than continuing your striving.
Practice shapeshifting by altering your physical appearance and mannerisms.

After the last few days… message received. The book that comes with the deck does expand on the brief sayings. The octopus one makes sense to me with the expanded reading.

***

In other news, my waitlist status for TPI has shifted over to one of tje women’s short term transitional buildings. Partly due to having Portia as an ESA, but I also can’t handle a top bunk. I’m now on a short list for a “pet room” at one of their women’s buildings. It may still take a month or so… but this may be a good thing. I’m grateful to my friends for putting up with me and my depression, ptsd, health, etc… but moving to a (hopefully) less stressful place will be a good change. Progress?

I just need to get Portia’s vaccines up to date ASAP.

***

That’s all for now. Except crowdfunding. Storage! I can’t lose my belongings. I’m trying to earn my way out of this hole, but I can’t do it without help. Paypal is the fastest and easiest. Any help will do. Share!

~A

Posted in animal advocacy, anxiety, C-PTSD, cats, chronic pain, crowdfunding, depression, disability, dogs, emergency, health, homeless, housing, job hunting, life, medical, poverty line, PTSD, storage, urgent

3/3/18: Panic Attack? Shifting of Things (and #crowdfunding)

I need to get storage caught up ASAP… see below for one of the reasons why. I also simply don’t want to lose my stuff… 

(featured image is a neighbor kitty who came to visit yesterday. Super sweet girl.)

Panic Attack?

This has been a wild and weird week for me. Had appts and such Monday through Wednesday, everything fine… Thursday night I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. I had a sharp jab of pain right in the middle of my left shoulder blade. Pain radiated down my left arm and across part of my chest. Short of breath, etc… went to the hospital, EKG was fine and they sent me home two hours later with scrips saying I likely pulled a muscle.

Okay, here’ the problem with that: I’ve had sciatica and various injuries my whole 45 years. I FUCKING KNOW WHAT A PULLED MUSCLE FEELS LIKE!!!!! I also know what nerve pain feels like. They gave me two Norco, one Ativan, and a shot of Toradol (which hurt like a motherfucker) while there, which did virtually nothing.

So, flash forward to the same time last night. Pain SLAMMED into me again. Same spot, same radiating pain. This time it also sent a straight line of pain across my back, stopping short of the right shoulder blade. Called the OHP nurse line, which told me to call 911 again. One of the same medics as the night before. BP high again, but nothing super high. I have my own cuff/monitor thanks to my dad (heart patient) years ago insisting on getting one. So I picked it out and he bought it for me. I’m monitoring it for now and have my followup with my clinic on Monday. I’m taking pics of each reading.

Here’s the thing: last night before bed, I took a flexeril (muscle relaxant) and a valium left over from my scrips (weaned off due to choosing it or oxy for my chronic pain). This morning? Pain down near a 3 or 4 where it was hovering between 7 and 10 until sometime during the night. I kept telling the doc at the ER that it wasn’t a pulled muscle. I have my beefs with the vast majority of medical professionals. They don’t fucking listen to those of us who know our bodies, assuming we’re just dumb motherfuckers. So, I’m guessing a massive panic attack from all the layers of stress in my life.


Shifting of Things

As many know of my homeless situation, I’ve been staying at a friend’s house for nearly a year. Currently in the basement. I got back on the waitlist for Transition Projects some weeks back. Normally, they put you in a stage 1 shelter once your number comes up. Because of my disabilites and having Portia (my Emotional Support Critter), they shifted me to bypassing a stage 1 shelter (open rooms like dorms, barracks). I can’t do a top bunk and with Portia, I need an enclosed space. They moved me to the list for a stage 2 space, which is the transitional housing, presumably private spaces. She said it may still be a few weeks.

One thing I need to get taken care of is get Portia updated on vaccines. I wish they had told me initially when they said I needed the letter for her to be an ESA. Details are important.

Then there’s my stuff. I won’t be able to bring everything I have here at the house to wherever the housing is. With storage being locked down, I’m stuck. I need to get it paid up ASAP so I can start moving things over there and bring my stuff here to a bare minimum.

I now owe roughly $1000

Rent: $305/ea = 915 [January, February, and now March]

Late fees: Over $100 (applied on the 6th, the 15th and then the end of the month. The end of month one is $50 each)

So, somewhere over 1K. Because of aforementioned medical fuckery, I need to take it easy for a few more days. I have a task tomorrow, but if the client helps, I may be okay. I just need to slow down and not try to break my own damn speed records. My pain is down today so if that keeps steady, I should be okay tomorrow. I’ll just need to be careful with the tasks for a while.

My options for my stuff, if I get into the shelter sooner rather than later:

  1. leave things here for a bit until storage frees up.
  2. get storage paid up and move things down there.
  3. find a friend to stash everything extra until storage is open again. 

I’d MUCH prefer the second one. I hate asking friends to store my crap. In general, I hate depending on others for anything, including financial help. But I’m stuck in this vortex of being jobless (in terms of steady work), homeless, and dealing with physical disabilities and PTSD.

Wanna know what hell is like? Live my life as it is right now. I’d love to be pain free, in my own place, with a steady job I can do without pain. I’d love to get my service dog and have more confidence in getting out and about. Rebuild my life. The PTSD affects a lot of it. I am well on my way to getting into therapy again, this time to address PTSD and getting my damn life back on track.


So there you have it. My life these last few days. One ambulance ride, paramedics two nights in a row, meds, and just trying to sort shit out and survive.

If my panic attacks are “leveling up,” I’m royally fucked. When they mimic a heart attack, it’s bad. Especially since my dad and both of his brothers were/are (one is still going) heart patients.

I am my father’s child on so many levels.

That’s all for now…