The beginning of the end...

That what it feels like to me.

I had several goals for the month of July.  One of which was to find a bank where I could have a checking account that was free.  My first attempt was a bit of a bait and switch sort of experience.  Bettina's husband chimed in on the matter and suggested that I chose a local bank.  After researching local banks, I settled on one that had free checking, free online bill pay, and a $2 reimbursement for any ATM that charged a fee.  Part of my reluctance, though, for closing the account is that I have had it for 13 years.  Only when Wells Fargo bought out Wachovia, they targeted my free checking account for transition to a $15 per month checking account.

When I went into the bank and said that I wanted to open an account, the teller hollered over to a financial manager that she had another college grad needing to open an account.  I am tired of being treated like a young woman...honey, sweetie, little lady.  I am 45. I am middle aged.  For me, I am probably old age.  As irritated as I felt, when I sat down with the manager, I specifically asked for no product sells, just a plain Jane account.  He was kind, courteous, and took care of the matter.  So, I got to check that goal off my list (pun intended).

But the hardest goal for the month was to apply for disability.  I do not wish to do this.  For me...to me...it makes me feel as if my life is over, as if I have nothing to contribute, as if I am nothing.  Only the truth is that I need to take this step.

The SSA case worker with whom I met was kind and compassionate and extraordinarily patient.  Utterly patient.  I did find it interesting that she noted my parent names are not correct on my social security card information, so she corrected them and reissued the card.  It will be coming soon.  A first step.

After working through everything but the disability report, she gave me a week to finish it online.  I had started it, but each time I set down to work on it, I become overwhelmed.  Very.  And afraid.  Of what, I cannot quite pinpoint.  However, the medical history part is quite involved and had to do with the things I cannot remember, the years that is.  So, it was not finished by our meeting and I have grave doubts about finishing it by next week.  Only it must be in order to complete the application.

I wonder all the time about disability. I wonder what is means, truly means, to be disabled.  I wonder if, as some have accused, I just try harder I will be better.  I wonder what life will be like, dependent on government programs that are running out of funds.  Once I qualify, I wonder what it will be like on medicare.  I wonder how much more I shall have to fight for help with a disease no one local seems to understand.  I wonder what the days will be like even though they would be no different than those I am living now.  Less worrisome, financially, at least as long as social security remains solvent.  But I wonder what I will be like...I wonder who I will be then.

There is no more hiding from the fact that stress is a trigger for my migraines.  I had a spate of them around the anniversary of the pit bull attack.  And I had a terrible one yesterday.

The stress of today.
The strain of today.
The shame of today.


I am Yours, Lord.  Save me!