My Excruciating So Called Life

I try to present the highlights of my life to the world. I try to have a "fake it til I make it" attitude. Well, I'm not making it anymore. Don't get me wrong- I have no expectation that life is fair. I have always known there would be challenges and hardships but I'm at the point now that I can't deny feeling like a target. I have to admit that I sometimes feel like maybe my purpose in this world is to make others feel lucky by comparison. 

Let me give you some examples: While I was in high school my mentally ill mom burns down our house. The next year she claims to be attacked by a mystery man, blaming me for not locking the door before leaving for school (we lived in the country and never locked the door). She also tells me he raped her with my curling iron that I had left on. Years later she admits she lied about the whole thing to cover up an affair. At 19 I was sexually assaulted while on a summer mission trip in Mexico. I then get sick for a year and a half from a parasite that entered my body when I broke my foot from twisting it in a flooded sewer grate on the same trip. When I was 24 and visiting my family for Christmas, my dad dies instantly of a heart attack at 45. The core of my world, the rock of our family is gone. 9 months later I loose my virginity by what I now understand was a rape by my boyfriend. 9 months after that I lose a baby at 4 months pregnant after a traumatic breakup with that boyfriend just weeks before we were planning to elope on my birthday. 

 I have tried to relieve years of chronic back pain through injections in my spine, physical therapy, hypnosis, medications with awful side affects, meditation, therapy, shooting electrical charges through my back, supplements, patches, ice bags and heating pads with NO success. On Valentines Day in 2002 my mom dies instantly of a broken neck in a car crash so horrific we were told we could not see the body because it would be too traumatic. At 35 I bleed for 9 months straight resulting in a radical hysterectomy (removing uterus, ovaries, cervix and a growth the size of a football) with a 12 inch vertical scar on my belly as a daily reminder of all I have lost. 

I start throwing up and passing out on occasion, gradually ramping up to flare ups coming almost weekly. While seeing doctors to try to figure out why this is happening I get diagnosed with cancer. While recovering physically and emotionally from surgery to remove the cancer and dealing with my other medical problems, I asked for a leave of absence from a job - that for 14 years was the only thing that grounded me, made me feel useful, gave me purpose and helped me understand how I could use what I had learned through my own tragedies to help others- I was unable to then keep my job. I continue to get sicker and sicker, unable to work, and eventually have my car repossessed, my house unfairly foreclosed (I'm approved for a settlement of a whopping $800 for unfair practices by my mortgage company) and filing for bankruptcy. 

For the last year and a half I have stayed with a few friends, slept on my sister's floor and sort of lived out of bags and boxes. I have been denied almost every type of assistance, most often with the explanation that if I had children I would qualify for help, definitely rubbing salt into a very sensitive wound. I applied for disability, was rejected and I'm now fighting that decision using an attorney who I will owe $6,000 if the appeal is approved. Some amazing people have tried to care for me in very generous ways. One friend offered to pay for health insurance while I wait for my disability hearing (an estimated 18 months). The plan with my new doctor was that as soon as I had gotten through the six month waiting period before insurance would cover preexisting conditions (November), I would go to the Mayo Clinic for help. I found out a few days ago that the Mayo Clinic just denied my doctor's request to refer me. They reviewed my medical file and said "they have nothing new or different to offer". I had no idea they could even do that. I feel crushed. How am I supposed to keep picking myself up? 

I'm not brave anymore. A few days ago, after eyeballing a bottle of sleeping pills and muscle relaxers for hours, I called a suicide hotline. I was feeling overwhelmingly hopeless and knew I needed to see a counselor (my new insurance has no mental health coverage). When I started to talk about how I was feeling, the woman simply replied "Oh sweetie, you don't want to do that. How about we set you up with an appointment." When I started to speak she interrupted me and said, "I'm sorry, I'm going to need to take this call." I paused and then hesitantly said ok and she hung up. So many people and places I have turned to for help at critical moments have failed me. I try to rebound, absorb, fight the good fight but the blows now feel bigger than the beauty of life. 

Do you know how excruciatingly hard II is to ask for help? A couple months ago I was staying with my sister in Howard City. After dealing with three days of nausea, throwing up and dry heaving, I started to have chest pain. Then my left arm went numb. When I got to the emergency room my blood pressure was 221/112. I was at the lethal stroke and heart attack level. They immediately arranged for me to be transferred by ambulance to the Heart Center in Grand Rapids. After hours of meds and tests they told me I was ok to leave and they weren't sure why my blood pressure went so high but to follow up with my doctor. I'm now on three blood pressure medications. 

I have bills for more than $3,000 because the only insurance I qualified for in the whole state comes with a $7,000 annual deductible. I can't even afford the copay for the 3 prescriptions. I need help. I have a friend who is managing a life threatening illness whose blog is inspiring, eloquent and hopeful. I wish I could do that. I just can't.