Tired of defending myself against strangers

I am NOT giving up. I used to. The depression has been a part of my life for so long. And long ago, when I was just a naive teenager, sure I gave up. Handfuls of pills. Wrist slashing.

I am not that person now. So what if I drink once in a while? I can't get anti anxiety meds, so I have a shot of vodka so I can go to sleep and sleep it off. Big deal. I'm not asking for donations to pay for my "drinking problem." Just because I mention it a lot here, doesn't mean I do it every day. Plus, $5 for a bottle of wine isn't the same as $360 for my bipolar medication.

This blog is merely a window into thoughts in only parts of my day. Moments of weakness really. Where I spill here what I can't spill elsewhere. Because I thought here was safe. But I guess it's not.

I'm seeing a specialist tomorrow and I'm so nervous. I'm tired of being turned away by doctors. I am chronically ill. Physically. And it affects my mental health to a point that maybe not everyone can understand. And maybe I need to stop being so open about what I feel in a dark moment. Because I'm getting a lot of emails telling me how weak and stupid and annoying I am.

Guess what? I'm not here to please everyone. I'm not perfect. I'm struggling in a world where my own health insurance won't cover the things I truly need. I need a root canal but that specific tooth isn't covered. I need therapy, but that's not covered either. I need medications that some doctors don't believe in. So I have to see several before I can find something that will help me keep a meal down.

I've been beyond sick for 3 years. And mentally ill for most of my life. But I'm not giving up. I'm just in a rough patch. And screw those of you who can't understand that.

For those of you new to this blog, I suggest going all the way back to the beginning posts before making judgement. It's not all doom and gloom around here. I'm just in a rough patch. You can't define a person by a few sad posts.

And you can't know how you'd behave in my position if you haven't been there yourself. I used to hate my father for leaving us when his cancer got really bad. He walked out. And I didn't get it. But now that I too am ill all the time, I get it. I can see why one would want to leave their family. I'm not saying I'd make the same choice. But I couldn't even imagine it before I came to this place.

And let's face, I'm still feeling out what "this place" is. Am I happy? Am I sad? It's not as simple as that. But when I figure it all out, I'll let you know.