Deterioration

After years of sleeping no more than 5-6 hours a night, for the two nights since I whacked my head twice in one fall, I have slept 8-10 hours. Good? not so sure. I'm still a little logy. No nausea or vomiting, no headaches, bleeding, or other warning signs that would make me go back to the ER, but I'm still not normal. Tomorrow I call one of my doctors for a follow-up appointment. I also start a 'Day Treatment' program (3 days a week) for the bipolar disorder because the depression has not gotten better even though the mania/anxiety symptoms are under control with the lithium.

Some of the depression is organic, and it has been aggravated by situational factors. I cannot work, and have not worked for almost a year, because my symptoms have been so severe, partly because of misdiagnosis and mismedication.   I don't know when I will be able to work again. My workplace has been treating me cruelly, and is trying to get me to quit. Not a single "colleague" has contacted me or expressed any solidarity or concern. The Dean has been trying to avoid meeting with me because he is following the HR script. I have lost my disability benefit despite being eligible, and am not sure if I'll retain my medical benefit. I have been awarded SSDI, which is good, but the amount per month is not enough to cover my basic expenses as they are now, so I am trying to cut and figure out what to cut so I can live on that amount. In two years I'll be eligible for Medicare, but until then, its MA or scramble. So I have downloaded the application for Medical Assistance. For the foreseeable future I am going to  be living with some economic insecurity, in part because the two other members of my condo association are refusing to pay their share of what we owe to two contractors. This causes me acute shame and distress. I am trying to borrow money to cover these bills, if necessary, but although I have been approved by my credit union, there is still more approval to go. It's starting to look as if selling my lovely little home might be necessary in the near future.

Every day I cry and cry. I have to work to remember why I want to go on living. This is scary because I do want to go on living, but these feelings are powerful and part of the disease. I am not yet sure if I can trust my new psychiatrist. I have only just met my new therapist. The last time I saw my primary care physician, she had a resident do the intake, and I really didn't like him. I'm so tired of petitioning the medical system for decent care and respect, even as I'm grateful for what care I have been getting.When they urge me to rely on my support network, I realize that I do not have one. I feel very alone.
My cat's health has declined severely and the vet does not seem to know what to do. Poor baby!