David Bowie had died the day before my birthday, but the news didn't break in the US until my 36th birthday. January 11th, 2016. Someone said it must suck to have David Bowie die on your birthday. I corrected them, but all the news that day was about David Bowie. I was outside of it. I didn't really know his work. I was sad whenever anyone died, but didn't mourn like the rest of the world.
Three days later, it was my turn to be devastated. On January 14th, 2016, the world lost one of the greatest British actors to have graced the screen and stage. Alan Rickman, whom at some point I had a crush on, had died of cancer. No one had known he was sick. Except of course his wife and his closest friends.
I had loved the man. Not in a romantic way. And not the man whom his wife and friends had known. I had loved the artist. I had fallen in love with Colonel Branden. I had fallen in love with Severus Snape. I loved to hate The Sheriff of Nottingham, Rasputin, and Hans Grueber. I had cried when I realized Harry had cheated on Karen in Love Actually. He was so brilliant.
My friend Annie asked me on Facebook if I was okay. I told her I was, because of course he had a great life with a brilliant career. I had been in shock.
A Month later, maybe more, I was on IMDB.com. There was an in memorium video for artists lost so far in 2016. I made the mistake of watching it. Alan Rickman was second, and they showed him as Snape, saying his famous Harry Potter line, the heartbraking, "Always." I lost it. All the shock was gone. I wept for almost an hour. My husband was not home. I was home alone. All the pent up grief just let loose.
You see, Alan Rickman had been my friend during my psychosis. In the novels I had written about how I became a celebrity and moved to England, he and his wife had always been friends of mine. In my psychosis, I had believed these stories to be true. I felt like I had lost a close personal friend. Even though in moments of sanity I knew it was not true, I had watched interviews with him, read quotations. I knew I didn't know him, and yet my illness tricked me into believing I did. And in this grief I could not tell reality from fantasy. And when reality began to shine through again, I wept for the world at no longer seeing another brilliant performance of such an amazing actor. With such a voice.
There will be no voice like Alan Rickman's ever again. No deep soothing voice. And for that, I mourn.
Last night, I dreamed that I won a contest that I could hang out with the cast of any movie of my choosing. I picked Harry Potter. They asked me which one and I told them all the last one, including flashbacks and ghosts. The dream was littered with adventures and making movies of our own. But in the end, Alan Rickman had to die again, because he was in reality already dead. As he was dying in front of me, I threw my arms around him screaming and sobbing before falling back as he withered into nothing. The other cast members, Dame Maggie Smith and Emma Thompson said they didn't understand why someone who didn't know him was so upset.
Sunday, April 24, 2016
Saturday, February 20, 2016
The Cost Of Good Health Insurance
It's true that I have phenomenal Health Insurance, and that most people don't. I hear horror stories about how people can barely afford insurance and copays, coinsurance, deductibles, and premiums. And I get how it can be annoying when I forget these things and in a state of giddiness, post how awesome my insurance is.
But people have to remember the other side of why I have such awesome insurance. I am disabled. In such a way, that I will likely NEVER be able to work again. That is why I get SSDI, because I am permanently disabled. That's what it's there for. So I am entitled to Medicare.
I live in Massachusetts, which thanks to Mitt Romney and other politicians, has a great form of Medicaid, MassHealth. I am entitled to MassHealth for 2 reasons, 1) I am disabled, but more importantly, 2) I am very very poor.
My husband and I live off of my SSDI and SNAP benefits (food stamps). That's it. And the government is constantly trying to take our SNAP benefits away too. 85% of my income goes to rent and the most basic of utilities. That does not include cell phone usage. We cannot afford a car. We cannot afford a bus pass. I rely on my Health Insurance to provide medical transportation to and from my many doctors appointments. I rely on family to take me to the laundromat and the grocery store and the drug store. And they live 40 miles away and only come up twice a month.
When people talk about going out to dinner or buying things, that is a luxury we don't have. I get money once a month and have to make it last. Often I can't make it stretch and we go without. I pay all the bills when my check comes in, so that we are never without electricity, and if God forbid there is a fire and we lose everything, the renter's insurance is paid up.
I have friends who tell me I should get this movie, or this book, or try this restaurant, and I politely tell them, "Sure, when I get a chance." But what they don't realize is, that will never happen, because I will never be able to afford it. Once a month, we pick something low cost to buy as a treat to ourselves. This month I got glittery eyeliner for "Valentines Day" which cost $10. That was my fun treat for the month.
So back to health insurance. I get this awesome, all expenses covered health insurance that covers everything, but at what cost? I would rather be a working member of society, earning my own paycheck, and paying my own way, then this person who scrapes by every month and pisses people off when she posts about how she gets a years worth of free contact lenses.
Maybe the next President can fix the system, so that everyone has an equal shot at fair and affordable Health Care. My cousin shouldn't have to go broke paying for her Medicare or her Diabetes testing supplies. She paid through the system, it should be there for her, like it is for me.
But people have to remember the other side of why I have such awesome insurance. I am disabled. In such a way, that I will likely NEVER be able to work again. That is why I get SSDI, because I am permanently disabled. That's what it's there for. So I am entitled to Medicare.
I live in Massachusetts, which thanks to Mitt Romney and other politicians, has a great form of Medicaid, MassHealth. I am entitled to MassHealth for 2 reasons, 1) I am disabled, but more importantly, 2) I am very very poor.
My husband and I live off of my SSDI and SNAP benefits (food stamps). That's it. And the government is constantly trying to take our SNAP benefits away too. 85% of my income goes to rent and the most basic of utilities. That does not include cell phone usage. We cannot afford a car. We cannot afford a bus pass. I rely on my Health Insurance to provide medical transportation to and from my many doctors appointments. I rely on family to take me to the laundromat and the grocery store and the drug store. And they live 40 miles away and only come up twice a month.
When people talk about going out to dinner or buying things, that is a luxury we don't have. I get money once a month and have to make it last. Often I can't make it stretch and we go without. I pay all the bills when my check comes in, so that we are never without electricity, and if God forbid there is a fire and we lose everything, the renter's insurance is paid up.
I have friends who tell me I should get this movie, or this book, or try this restaurant, and I politely tell them, "Sure, when I get a chance." But what they don't realize is, that will never happen, because I will never be able to afford it. Once a month, we pick something low cost to buy as a treat to ourselves. This month I got glittery eyeliner for "Valentines Day" which cost $10. That was my fun treat for the month.
So back to health insurance. I get this awesome, all expenses covered health insurance that covers everything, but at what cost? I would rather be a working member of society, earning my own paycheck, and paying my own way, then this person who scrapes by every month and pisses people off when she posts about how she gets a years worth of free contact lenses.
Maybe the next President can fix the system, so that everyone has an equal shot at fair and affordable Health Care. My cousin shouldn't have to go broke paying for her Medicare or her Diabetes testing supplies. She paid through the system, it should be there for her, like it is for me.
Saturday, February 6, 2016
Mistaken Identity
I posted this picture on Facebook:
I tagged my husband, which means his friends could see the picture too. One of his friends asked if I was his mother. I replied, "Um no, I'm his wife. I'm 36, but went prematurely gray." We then went back and forth, me trying to make her feel less bad about confusing me with his 61 year old mother, and her telling me the gray hair suits me, and I really do NOT look 61.
I have been confused for a woman in her 40s, and 50s, and now 60s. But I will not dye it. I stopped dying it a year ago, and even though the temptation hits me as I pass by the hair dye section at CVS and Walmart, I resist. Too much work. And now my hair is so gray the roots show almost immediately, so I'd have to touch it up every two weeks. I'm just not up for that.
Just call me, "The Silver Fox".
I tagged my husband, which means his friends could see the picture too. One of his friends asked if I was his mother. I replied, "Um no, I'm his wife. I'm 36, but went prematurely gray." We then went back and forth, me trying to make her feel less bad about confusing me with his 61 year old mother, and her telling me the gray hair suits me, and I really do NOT look 61.
I have been confused for a woman in her 40s, and 50s, and now 60s. But I will not dye it. I stopped dying it a year ago, and even though the temptation hits me as I pass by the hair dye section at CVS and Walmart, I resist. Too much work. And now my hair is so gray the roots show almost immediately, so I'd have to touch it up every two weeks. I'm just not up for that.
Just call me, "The Silver Fox".
If My Husband Can Love Me For Who I Am, Why Can't I?
Well, I've done it this time. I have successfully alienated all my friends on Facebook by posting a depressing poem, and a painting of myself with my hair on fire, crying tears of blood. I have let my illness take over. I am not a person who has schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type. I AM schizoaffective with bipolar. Everyday, I remind myself of it. Whether it's swallowing one of 8 psych medications, or whether it's just feeling depressed or manic, or hearing voices or seeing things that aren't there. My illness controls me, and I've let it. Now I've let it creep onto Facebook, and no one knows what to think. I mean, who knows how to deal with that? So they stay away. I don't blame them. They have to protect themselves. Hanging around negativity isn't good for anyone. But sometimes, I just want to hear about their lives, and not talk about how I'm feeling. I want to hear the positives (or negatives) in their lives. I want to feel connected.
I joined a group last weekend on Facebook for Schizoaffective people and their loved ones. It's been great. I can post and comment and not have to worry about alienating everyone, because everyone there understands. They get it. They've been there.
It hasn't helped that my therapist has been out sick the last month with pneumonia. I missed a month of appointments. Fortunately she was back this week and I got to see her. She was still coughing a bit, poor thing. I felt bad for her.
I made a realization in the last month or so. I don't hate my life. Yes we are struggling with some things, but there are a lot more positives than negatives. I have fresh water, a roof over my head, food to eat, a loving family, my supportive and loving husband, and many many other things. I do not hate my life. And I thought that I hated myself. I even said it to a friend a week ago, who promptly said, "Talk to you later" and hasn't talked to me since. I don't hate myself either. But I hate the illness. I hate the things that come with having it, and the embarrassing things I've done or said as a result of it. The not having a filter, and saying what I feel. But it's a part of me, and I have to accept it. I will take my medications as prescribed, and I will go to all the therapy I can, including groups and support groups, and I will learn to accept who I am. Because really, if my husband can love me for who I am, why can't I?
I joined a group last weekend on Facebook for Schizoaffective people and their loved ones. It's been great. I can post and comment and not have to worry about alienating everyone, because everyone there understands. They get it. They've been there.
It hasn't helped that my therapist has been out sick the last month with pneumonia. I missed a month of appointments. Fortunately she was back this week and I got to see her. She was still coughing a bit, poor thing. I felt bad for her.
I made a realization in the last month or so. I don't hate my life. Yes we are struggling with some things, but there are a lot more positives than negatives. I have fresh water, a roof over my head, food to eat, a loving family, my supportive and loving husband, and many many other things. I do not hate my life. And I thought that I hated myself. I even said it to a friend a week ago, who promptly said, "Talk to you later" and hasn't talked to me since. I don't hate myself either. But I hate the illness. I hate the things that come with having it, and the embarrassing things I've done or said as a result of it. The not having a filter, and saying what I feel. But it's a part of me, and I have to accept it. I will take my medications as prescribed, and I will go to all the therapy I can, including groups and support groups, and I will learn to accept who I am. Because really, if my husband can love me for who I am, why can't I?
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