How dare they!

March 8, 2016

Last year I got a surprising letter in the mail: I was coming up on the waiting list for Section 8! Section 8 is a housing program where the tenant pays up to 30% of their income in rent and the government pays the rest. This is huge!

Now, it’s not all great. Section 8 has strict rent limits that are very hard to meet. For example, in my town the rent would need to be no more than $1187 per month, including all utilities. I haven’t heard of a 1-bedroom apartment for so little in many years. Still, I figured it would be worth trying.

The waiting list for Section 8 can be 3-4 years. I’ve only been on the list for 2 years! Wow! So now it’s time to prepare, right? They need a lot of paperwork. Of course. I handed it all over.

Now, if you’ve ever applied for benefits in the U.S., you know how intrusive it can be. They want to know how much your income is. They want to know your spending on every little thing. They want your social security card, driver’s license, bank statements, copies of approval letters for all other benefits (because heaven forbid the agencies actually speak to each other!) and all sorts of other things. But I do it, because that’s how I’m sort of paying the bills right now.

I really hate handing over bank statements. There’s something about that which feels particularly intrusive and unnerving. But I did it. 12 months of bank statements. It took ages to print out all of the statements and white out the account numbers. Still, they showed which bank was mine, how much money I had, what I deposited, what I paid out, my name and address, etc.

And they lost them.

Yesterday I got a letter in the mail saying they needed my bank statements. I contacted the woman in charge of my case and she said she didn’t have them. I had her look again. She still didn’t have them.

What the fuck!?! They lost my bank statements for all of 2015!!

And now they want another copy. I know they want that copy before they’ll give me benefits, but is it worth it? Because honestly, I don’t know that it is. I’m not sure I’ll be able to use Section 8 anyway. And what if they lose them again? I was so unnerved that I didn’t even want to mail those statements, so I hand delivered them to the office. I really couldn’t have done more.

I’m not sure what I’ll do, but I know I’m pissed. And I’m going to let them know that. Because this is COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE!

5 Comments | Expectations, Frustration, Insensitive, Politics, Rants | Tagged: , , | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

I got a dog. Maybe.

March 4, 2016

I had expected to write an excited posted filled with happy stories and cute dog photos. Instead, I’m caught in a limbo, unsure what to do.

I’ve wanted a dog for ages. I grew up with a dog and I’ve always loved dogs. In my 20s I 2016-03-01 18.55.33worked and traveled too much for a dog. I wasn’t ready for the responsibility. In my early 30s my health was too bad for a dog. Then last year, I was talking to a friend for the millionth time about how much I wanted a dog, but that I couldn’t manage all of the walks. She pointed out that I could litter train a dog.

Suddenly, getting a dog seemed feasible. I could walk her once a day and play with her indoors for exercise and have her use the litter the rest of the time. This could totally work. I’d have a lovely companion. A furbaby. Someone to love and someone to love me. I could finally get my dog!

After a ridiculous amount of thinking and over analyzing, checking with doctors and working out logistics with my landlord, then recovering from my foot accident, it was finally time. I sent out several applications. And then the call came: my application was being processed for a little cutie named Roxanne!

Roxanne is a darling. She is sweet and beautiful. She’s housebroken, so in some ways she’s a lot less work at this stage than I expected. She’s got big ears and lovely markings and a tail that’s almost always wagging. Right now, she’s sitting in my lap.

And I don’t know if I’m going to keep her.

If the rescue agency had said the adoption was final, maybe I’d have a different mindset. I’ll never know. Instead, they said this was a foster-to-adopt. I had 2 weeks to decide. After two weeks, I could return her to her last foster home and get almost all of my money back. I shrugged it off when they said that; of course this was permanent! But now I’m not so sure….

Even in the first days, I had doubts. I tried to ignore them. I decided to try the fake-it-til-I-make-it approach. I emailed my loved ones about the adoption. I posted on Facebook. It wasn’t quite working. I was overwhelmed and exhausted and not sure if she was really going to be mine. I posted a more hesitant teaser on this blog. My parents visited to see if they could offer some insight. I spoke to friends with dogs. I talked to her new vet.

And I still don’t know what to do.

At first, I felt like she was too hyper. But that was mostly her acting out as she adjusted to a new place, combined with me not handling it in the best way. Really, she’s so great, there’s nothing particularly “wrong” with her. I just wonder if I can really fit Roxanne into my life.

I had a good thing going. But it was tenuous at best. I was starting to do some paid work, but I was having trouble finding time and energy for it. I was hoping to even start dating again soon, but there was no time or energy for that. My health was doing ok, but I wasn’t doing my exercises consistently. Still, it was going pretty well overall.

I want to give Roxanne back, but I’m not entirely sure why.

If I want to give her back because I don’t think I can fit her into my life without giving up something I shouldn’t (like paid work or physical therapy), then I have to give her back. But if I want to give her back because I got used to having no responsibilities, that’s not a good enough reason. If I want to give her back because I’m scared of the unknown, that’s not a good enough reason.

I used to make changes in my life. A lot of them. I changed cities. I changed jobs. I traveled. Now, I haven’t been on an airplane in 5 years. I’ve been in the same apartment for 10 years. I haven’t been working. My life has been fairly stable. I think stability can be good. I need it to a certain extent. But it can make me complacent. Roxanne would definitely change things up, and maybe that’s the part that’s scaring me. In a life where chronic illness takes away my sense of having any control at all over my life, that stability gave me a small measure of control that I could hold on to. Am I ready to rock that boat?

Or maybe I just didn’t fully understand just how much work a dog would be, and it’s too much for me.

I would love any and all thoughts, advice, and tips you can offer! Please comment below. Do you have a dog? How do you balance dog care with chronic illness? Do you feel that you shy away from new things because you’ve become set in your ways? Really, please share anything you think of. Maybe it will help me.

Right now I’m leaning towards giving Roxanne back. I’m not sure if I can manage having her. But this would also mean giving up on my dream of dog ownership, at least for now (maybe down the road I’d feel more ready?) Not to mention, I would miss her and feel terrible about her being abandoned yet again.

Help!

9 Comments | Decisions, Expectations, Fatigue, Frustration, Isolation, Limitations, Milestones, Rants, Raves, Relationships: Family & Friends & Dating & Sex, Support, Unpredictable | Tagged: , | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

Worrying the good stuff will hurt me

February 29, 2016

I’m going to be sharing some big news soon. But not yet. I’m too overwhelmed right now. And too nervous.

Because the thing is, when something good happens and you have a chronic illness, often you can’t just enjoy the thing.

The thing I’ll be sharing soon is good. Really good. Incredibly good. But along with the good comes some difficult stuff. It comes with expending more energy. It comes with less control of when I rest and how long I rest. It comes with more responsibility. And all of that worries me.

On the downside, all these years I haven’t had a spouse or children or anyone to be there for me every single day. My parents are fantastic, and I talk to my mom every day, sometimes multiple times a day, but that’s not the same.

Then again, I had no responsibility for anyone by myself. I had no kids, no spouse, no partner, no pets. I had no job and no house. My biggest responsibility was my car, and that’s relatively minor (and there’s no emotional attachment there at all.) It was all about me, myself, and I, and that suited me just fine.

And now I’m taking on new responsibility. That’s daunting, to say the least.

At least once an hour I find myself wondering if I’m pushing myself too hard. Was that walk too long? Will I regret it? Am I doing too much? Will I get sick because of it? Am I worrying for nothing?

That last one was answered when my knee started to buckle as I was walking down a flight of stairs, and I pictured myself tumbling down. Ok, maybe I’m not worrying for nothing, but I still might be worrying too much.

Because we all know how hard it is to adjust to a “new normal.” I’ve written about it many times and I’m sure others have too. We get used to doing things and find something that works and then there’s a change. Maybe the change is external: a new home, a new job, a new medication, a new season. Maybe it’s internal: a new diagnoses, a worsening of symptoms, an improving of symptoms. Whatever it is, it means we have to find out what our new normal is. That’s not easy. But that’s where I am right now.

There I was, seeing some improvement, enjoying where I was, just starting to find a groove in my new normal, and then things changed. And even when they change for the better, that can be a problem.

I once tried to explain my adrenal problems to someone by saying that any kind of stress could be bad – the death of a loved one or winning the lottery could each have a terrible effect on me. Of course, the effects would be different, but I do think that winning the lottery could have some bad short term consequences.

So that’s why I’m now worried. Because I’m not sure how much my poor body can handle. Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe not. Unfortunately, I won’t know one way or the other until it’s too late to change things. There’s a reason one of the biggest categories in the sidebar over there on the right is the one called “Unpredictable.”

I’ll just have to metaphorically cross my fingers and hope it all goes ok.

1 Comment | Expectations, Fatigue, Frustration, Limitations, Rants, Relationships: Family & Friends & Dating & Sex, Symptoms, Unpredictable | Tagged: , | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

I know that would help but….

February 21, 2016

We all make excuses. Maybe it’s human nature. Maybe it’s cultural. But I’m pretty sure everyone does it. At least, I know I do it. And I know it’s hurting me.

When I was a kid I made excuses not to clean my room. Or to do chores. Or to do my homework. Or practice whatever instrument I was playing at the time. Over the years, the excuses changed and the things I avoided changed, the the process felt the same.

Now, I’m great about doing most things, even if I don’t want to, because I know I’ll be happier if I just get them done. I don’t always prioritize well, so things I should do get moved lower on my list and get put off from one day to the next to the next. Still, while I don’t particularly want to do them, I know that either I will eventually do them or I’ll admit to myself they aren’t necessary. Sure, I should probably learn to cook that new dish, but if I don’t ever get around to it, what’s the harm?

I’m pretty good about health stuff, too. I used to make excuses for why I wasn’t trying a gluten-free diet or some new treatment. I made the excuses but eventually, I tried those things, because avoiding them was worse than doing them. Missing a party sucked, but I knew it was what I had to do. I was done making excuses for those things.

So why, then, do I make excuses when it comes to my physical therapy? I tell myself skipping a day won’t make a difference. And it’s not like those exercises help all that much anyway. And they’re so annoying. And I’m good about my diet and taking walks and not overdoing my activity levels and using my sleep machine and so many other things. Why do I have to be good about this too?

The thing is, I know I should do those exercises. I know they’ll help me in the long run, even though I don’t feel it in the short run. I know the real problem is that they’re boring and they take up time and energy that I’d rather spend doing other things. I can sit down right now and thinking about what’s going on and recognize the truth. But when the time comes to do the exercises, inevitably, I always come up with a reason not to do them (I just ate; I should wait until I digest a bit) and then I manage to forget. But that’s ok. I’ll do them tomorrow, right?

How do you handle excusitis? Are you good about doing your exercises? How do you make yourself do them? Please comment below. Maybe your tips will help me or someone else!

P.S. Thanks to Megan S – your comment here inspired today’s post!

2 Comments | Decisions, Expectations, Fatigue, Frustration, Limitations, Rants, Symptoms | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

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