Posts Tagged ‘falling apart’

Venting. It’s not just for heating systems.

March 9, 2011

Just a quick vent. I need to get it out, but by no means do you need to read it. But I’ve spent today feeling like I’m loosely held together by tape, and the tape is losing its stickiness. Part of it is my period, but most of it’s this job. Kinda like drinking – you might fancy someone, but once you’re drunk? Kiss city.

We have a ‘helper’ come over once a week. She’s from a charity who helps support families – we got her because of my disability and the fact that I have multiples. She’s the reason we started being able to get out of the house. Her manager just popped over unexpectedly – she had me in her diary as an appointment, I did not.

We spent much of the time talking about applying for benefits/welfare.  Now, we have been entitled to benefits for the children since birth – and disability benefits for me could have been applied for, too. We never bothered with either. Now it seems like something definitely worth doing, and we actually got one of the forms, but TMD is having trouble working it out.

After the lady left, I started crying in the kitchen.

I texted TMD to ask her to leave work 30 minutes early – and let’s face it, what does she owe them at this point? While waiting for her reply, I noticed a text from Aussie. A picker upper text. A really nice text.

As is my wont, I burst into tears and felt sad and angry. Nice things often make me more in touch with my sad place than other sorts of things. I value her support. I value your support. Knowing people are thinking of us is nice.

But when – tell me when – I became someone who needed help applying for benefits? When did I become someone who needed benefits?

And what happens if we don’t have enough money for me to continue Bowen Therapy?? For the first time in years I am feeling a bit better, and the thing that is helping me recover is going to be stopped?!

I’m crying now. I feel out of control. If I was still working, we’d still have my income. As it stands, I’m limited in terms of what I can help control. So I am cleaning; I’m making sure dinner is ready for TMD and all the dishes are done so she has the evenings to do job stuff. Job Stuff. Job. Stuff.

And I am largely holding it together.

But today, I’m not.

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