A lot of people care about me. I'm not entirely sure why, but they do. I was supposed to leave this morning for an eating disorder treatment facility in St. Louis.
I had gone back and forth about it for weeks before finally committing to entering treatment. Of course, best laid plans and all that. After picking up my prescriptions Friday afternoon, I found out I don't have insurance coverage any longer. Never mind that I have documentation stating several things have been filed and paid, even through May. Cobra with ArBenefits says my coverage terminated on March 31. Nevermind that I made payments for the two months after that. They don't show up on my bank statement so for what ever reason they either didn't make it to Little Rock or didn't get posted. My guess the payments didn't make it for one reason or another. Why the first two made it and these didn't, I don't know. Anyway, the whole episode is making me very insane, very upset. I want help for my eating disorder. I want health insurance. I am very well aware that ultimately it is my own fault I am in this predicament in the first place. I never let myself forget it, trust me.
But even in the midst of all this crap, people are surrounding me, trying to help me any way they can, whether I want it or not. What I really want it to go to sleep and stay that way for eternity. At least that is how I feel right this moment. Hopefully, those feelings will change.
The ArBenefits division gave me the option to appeal, which I have already done via fax, and now I must wait a minimum of two weeks to find out my fate. I am so sucky at patience and waiting in general. And I have been packed since Thursday. Did I say that already. The people in my life who are supporting me are full of rallying messages: "this is your disease talking." "You have a mental illness that is running the show right how, it will get better." Maybe they are right. I know they are about the mental illness, anyway. But, I do not want to have a mental illness. I never have wanted one, though I can't remember not having some degree of something that looks like, talks like, walks like mental illness. I just want help with the eating disorder. I checked with the place I should be at even as I write this. They don't offer scholarships, etc. that would allow me to seek treatment there. I understand that. It is a business after all. I am just disgusted. I am also grateful for sponsors, therapists, and friends who continue to believe in me when I do not have the slightest belief in myself.
I am staying at a hotel tonight. I want to be a lone. Good idea? I don't know, maybe not. Do I care? Not so much right this moment. Do I want to be me? Not in the least. Is this a pity party? Possibly, but I do not really give a flying fig right now if it is. I am angry, primarily with myself, frustrated beyond words. I am just so very, very tired of me.
I'm also not proofing this. I just don't care right now.
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