Inside My Mind

Time is running out quickly on a miracle. In 15 short days, if a miracle does not occur, life as we have known it here in the Den will be altered dramatically. Life in the cornfield may come to an end.

Sales have gone flat. Renewals have become fewer. The loss from Iohn's out-of-work status for over a month and a half is taking its toll.

We are at a crossroad. We are going to sell whatever we can over the next few days in a yardsale at Mom's in Sullivan. Try and get as much money as we can. It won't be enough, but it will help.

To the contrary, Mr. President, in our part of the US of A, the economy has not bounced back, is not improving. Here in the cornfield, the economy continues to slide into the muck and mire. Here in the cornfield it is as though we are all woolly mammoths caught in the tar pits.

Your lackadaisical performance in the Oval Office in inspiring hope and resolve during last night's televised presidential address did the opposite. You provided no substantial plan. You provided no tangible hope. You mouthed words without bite. You not only are not having a positive impact on the economy, job market, but now you aren't providing clear leadership on the Gulf oil spill.

Unfortunately, reality smashed my rose-colored glasses years ago. I must face each day the stormy reality of life. I don't have the ability to ignore and beam a smile of complacency and just be happy.

So this Wednesday morning, the middle of June, I wait. Hope fades. Faith is strained. Contingencies are planned. Alas, time is running out.

Something has to give. And...it has to give within the next two weeks. We can't keep on the way things are. Every day produces yet another set back.

Yesterday, Iohn learned that the regional manager for Pizza Hut was not happy that he had been hired. Not because of his job performance, not because of his ability, but rather because as a 13, 14, 15 year old kid, he had the immaturity to not know the impact that tattoos could have on job prospects. The lack of parental advice and supervision resulted in his folly of becoming tattooed up and down his arms. The regional manager wants Iohn gone because of the tattoos, which according to him offend his religious sensibilities. The fact that Iohn is performing his job and better than most of his co-workers who have been there for some time is of no consequence to this RM. This RM is determined to find a reason to have Iohn terminated.

Not to mention our financial straits, we may be forced to relocate unless a miracle happens in the next two weeks. The trip to Texas for Kev's wedding is going to run around $500. Short of a miracle, the only way I see for us to make the wedding at this point is to move to southeast Texas ourselves at the start of July when we have the money to do so. This seems even more the most likely option given Iohn's tenuous relationship with Pizza Hut.

Mentally and emotionally I am already at the point of slipping into complete insanity. My headaches are increasing in severity. I am sure this is from the worry and the stress. Business has slowed to no new growth. Not even maintaining all the current client base. Not that it is much income, a dollar or two per customer if I'm lucky. On some customers I'm going in the hole and are costing me instead.

My Mom may have stated in best earlier this week when she noted that my ideas may be good, but I don't have the means to carry through...so my only ability is to accept that I am a disabled individual who needs to forget trying to be self-reliant and vegetate in the Den. You have to have money to make money. Being on SSD does not provide for basic needs let alone for getting a business operation off the ground. And yet, I don't qualify for any assistance. I am told I make too much money on SSD for help. Doesn't matter my meager income is below the poverty level. Doesn't matter that I worked for over 30 years and became sick. Doesn't matter that I am trying to stand on my own. I make too much money on SSD. So what if it is not enough for food, rent, gasoline. It's my own fault for doing right for 30 years, working, paying into the system. So now, I make too much money.

I am still waiting and hoping for that one bee, wasp, hornet, yellow jacket to find me. That's the only out that will actually provide what is needed.

So this Sunday morning in June I have been but one question. Where is my miracle?

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I remember writing at the end of 2009 and the start of 2010 how that there was no way that 2010 could be even half as bad as 2009. How wrong I was. With half the year nearly complete, 2010 has proven to be even more disastrous, more damaging, more devastating that could have ever been imagined.

Take all of 2009 and multiply the harm, the bad times by 100 fold and you will almost get the severity of desolation and horror that 2010 has produced during this first 6 months. And at this time, there is not even a twinkle of any light at the end of the dark tunnel in which I have found myself.

Death is looking more and more appealing as each day passes. I have to fight with myself to keep from ending the misery, the pain, the sorrow, the utter despair. Not a day goes by that I don't wish for that bee or wasp to wreak its destruction.

I have tried to express to Iohn, to Kev, to my parents the state I am in and how far into the pit I have fallen. But it seems that none of them are grasping the desperation I am feeling, experiencing, living. None of them seem to know how much I am struggling to maintain my sanity.

I am at the end of the rope. My grasp is growing weaker with each passing moment. I need relief. I need some reason to stop the decline into oblivion. I ask for it, but no one answers. No one provides a logical, foreseeable, tangible response to keep fighting.

As I sit here in the Den, typing on the keyboard, looking around me, I can see no way this year can end on a high note. To me it appears that 2010 will be the year that finally does me in.

Without a miracle this week, I am not sure if there will ever be another entry in my blog. I am not sure that I will make it to Kev's wedding. I am not sure I will see another grandchild. I am not sure I will have a roof over my head, food to eat, electricity to power my computer, TV, air conditioner.

Only a miracle can change where this is all headed. Only a miracle can provide the relief so desperately needed. Only a miracle...

Before I begin let me state the purpose of this post is not to have a pity party or to wallow in the mud. I know there are those who can not understand the depth of my condition or the effects that it has on me and how devastating it can be. If it were just a matter of looking at the glass half full that would be easy. If it were a matter of medication that would be easy. Unfortunately optimism nor drugs as an impact on my condition. It is beyond my control.

A few months ago I was subjected to a situation that cut deeply and left me publicly humiliated. How can I begin to express or explain what humiliation can do to a person...and more so with one that suffers with my condition. The humiliation leaves a very real and very sharp cutting gash in my psyche and my emotional state. The humiliation is such that I have in a sense developed agoraphobia or a fear of the outdoors. But it's not the outdoors or the wide open spaces rather the fear is to mix and be seen by other human beings. I have a fear of being once again subjected to humiliation if I dare to venture out where other people gather or may be. It so bad that I have to force myself to even go to the grocery store.

The humiliation has left me devastated. My desire to attempt to live a life filled with contact with others has been killed. My fear is that I will be rejected, be humiliate again, be subject to ridicule and derision.

So here this Memorial Day weekend I sit in the Den not wanting to venture past my front door. I sit with the sun shining brightly outside in a room filled with gloom and darkness.

My financial dilemma grows worse each day. The steep climb from the pit I have fallen is insurmountable. Each pull upward causes me to slide 4 steps farther down. Instead of gaining or rising I sink much deeper into the abyss.

How Iohn can tolerate or deal with me in my condition is beyond me. He at least does have another job now. But, even though he is once more working, it will take years to emerge from the quagmire we became immersed while he was without a check.

I can't bear to show my face. I can't bear to talk on the phone. I can't bear to have human contact. The humiliation caused a deep affect. Not sure when I will ever be able to rise again.