YOU ARE NOT ALONE - A companion online community discussion board for The Mental Illness Happy Hour podcast with Paul Gilmartin

I don't see how it possibly can. I am the only one who can change things, and I have been too paralyzed to do so. For years. I haven't checked my mail in over a year. Oh, I pull the mail out of the box when it overflows, dump it in a bag, and ignore it. I'm beyond lucky that I happened to see a jury summons during one of those mail dumps. I probably have five million collection letters and threats of being sued for not paying my bills. Maybe I have a subpoena or a warrant out for my arrest for something I neglected to read. All related to debt - I'm not doing any other kind of crime. I think about my mail, and all the horrible, life-destroying things that may be in there, at least 10 times per hour. Day in and day out. I can't act. I can't open the envelopes. Sort the categories. make the phone calls. i am drowning in the uncertainty and the inability to take action. I just know this path leads straight to a jail cell. I don't do housework. I don't cook. I don't do human things like send my dear niece a birthday card and present when she turned 15 last month. I haven't called my mother in months. i'm a shit ass friend. This will never end because I have fallen too far into the whole to climb back out. The apartment is, frankly, eviction worthy with how much trouble we both have being fucking human beings. Human beings who go to the store and cook a meal and clean up the dishes and take out the garbage and vacuum the floor and clean the bedding, and do laundry, and take showers, and brush their teeth, and wear clean clothes. I have not taken a shower since Thanksgiving because we went to my aunt's house and I was able to take advantage of a clean shower. My shower phobia runs deep, I can't handle stepping into a tub with a single hair or piece of fuzz. I can't stand the water to be any less than scalding hot. If either of those two aren't met, I feel intense squick and just need to escape. Well, our tub is a horror to behold. Clogged up, no drain-o touches it, and I would rather die than stand in the gross tub filling full of hair mats and nasty water and dirt and ... no. But with the house in such disarray, we can't have the landlord fix the tub. So I'm stuck, and can only shower outside my own home. Can't make it to a gym. That leaves hotels and sleepovers with friends. Prior to Thanksgiving, my last shower was in August at my 20 year high school reunion (in my hotel). I really can't understand how not a single person has talked to me about this. I'm sure I must be smelly. Add in the ever-so-convenient-fact that I haven't done laundry for months. Everyone just stay the fuck away.

I'm so anxious and depressed I don't physically have the energy to clean the house, do the laundry. That won't get better.

I have so many medical issues to deal with right now. Therapy, of course. I've been in therapy and with a psychiatrist for years. But I don't feel secure in my job. The job is killing my soul. It is making me more depressed every day. It seems odd to be a 38 year old woman with thoughts of cutting, which I have never done and only one other time even considered it. But I took a nearly empty box of scalpel sharp blades from my medical lab job. There were only one or two blades left. I wanted to self harm. I wanted to see if it would help. I haven't yet. I'm not suicidal….I don't want to be dead….That doesn't stop me thinking about it several times per hour. The only other time I felt this mired down in self-harm and suicidal thoughts was from 2002-2005 when I was dating the most sexually and mentally abusive, manipulative, and controlling guy. After tonight's podcast, I realize he was probably Borderline. I was afraid to leave him. I couldn't even scream while alone in the car, so I'd slap myself as hard as I could. I guess the point I started to make at the start of this paragraph before I derailed it, is that I have so many medical needs. My therapy and psychiatry, I need new glasses, yearly physical, dental work, CPAP maintenance. I need to hurry and get all these scheduled in case I lose my job or miraculously find a better one, BUT I'm terrified of running up even more medical bills. Catch-22. Fuck me, I'm stuck and I'm about to give up.

If we get evicted or I get thrown in debtors jail, my heartbreak will be losing my cats. I can't lose them. They're my babies. When I'm at work and sad or scared, I think how soon I'll be home to cuddle them and I feel a little better. I love them more than most humans. If I can't take care of them, it will kill me.

I have a great therapist and psychiatrist. They're wonderful and very helpful. I've made some outward progress with their help. But the deeper stuff, I have been too afraid to tell them. And that is not good to hide things from someone trying to help. I haven't said I take maybe 3-4 showers per YEAR. I haven't said I do laundry once ever few months and just keep wearing the same gross clothes over and over. I've never mentioned that when I was in middle and high school I never wiped my bottom after going pee. Yes, I did if I pooped, but if I went pee I'd just pull up the undies and even wear the same undies for days at a time - to school even. Of course I was constantly teased. What makes me keep self sabotaging myself? Why didn't I want to present a clean Me to the world back in middle and high school (my mom would always tell me "Well, you'll never get a boyfriend with those gross underwear" "You'll never get a boyfriend if you don't lose weight. You're going to be 200lbs by the time you're 16!" "What, you think you're too good for those boys? You are not too good for them, trust me." (I never thought I was too good - in fact I knew I was the lowest of the low and completely undatable).

How about when I was five and my mom's husband (not my dad) would be naked in the room with me whenever I took a bath, asking me to touch him. I have no memory of this, but my mom says I never did touch him. Even day to day, he'd wander the house naked and always make sure I could see his Godlike physique. I can't imagine that my mom was ALWAYS around during these happenings. She had to have gone to the grocery store at some point. If he touched me, or made me touch him, I have no memory of it, but I'd be surprised if it didn't happen. But oh yeah! At other times he'd chase after me with a carving knife because I was sucking my thumb and he wanted to chop it off! Good times, good times.

I know I'm not alone. It feels great to be not alone. I also feel quite hopeless and I can't sustain this for much longer.

Hi Nevina:

I'm sorry to hear that you are in such a dark place. No matter what has happened to you, no matter what you have done or not done or avoided, you are still a good and worthwhile person deserving of love and respect (especially from yourself). I know how hard it is to be kind to yourself and how easy it is to beat up on yourself. The fact that you are on here and making yourself vulnerable is a really important thing - I know the pain and shame of feeling like you have to hide your scars (physical or emotional) from the world. I hear a lot of judgment in the words that you are using to describe yourself and your situations, and I wonder if you would use the same language if you were talking to a friend or loved one who was struggling with similar situations. I hope you can cut yourself a little bit of slack and keep taking small steps and having some faith that they will add up to something better. I'm not going to be one of those people that says that all you have to do is change your perspective and shift your outlook and think happy thoughts and your problems will melt away - but try, try, try to remember and acknowledge the good things about you and your life alongside the things that make you feel crappy, and maybe that will over time give you more of a foundation to build the courage and confidence and self-esteem to tackle some of these insurmountable issues.

Thank you, weary. I slept after posting, and when I woke up I talked to my boyfriend and called my therapist. I have an appointment for Tuesday, I might take a short medical leave from work. I'm going to try to do something small but productive this weekend, and something fun also. I did apply for another job and I've had one interview with them, but I haven't heard back for two weeks whether I'll get a second interview, but I think they're still in round one. I found another place to apply to, as well. I guess I don't feel happier today, but maybe a little less negative.

Thank you again for your reply. I appreciate it.

Once again, Weary says it best!

Have you ever heard of Debtor's Anonymous? It's an awesome support group for people in debt or who are constantly worried about money. My spouse attended meetings for a while and they really helped us! Ultimately, we ended up filing for bankruptcy, which was a low blow to us--but we survived and no longer fear that mail box.

I love you like a milkshake and will keep you in my thoughts. There's nothing worse than being in that shitty space.

Hey Nevina, how are you doing?