Shattered

I hate lying. I hate it to the point where I will sometimes say awkward truths to people. Those that know me know that unless they want a completely honest answer, they should not ask me anything. And it is for my passionate hatred of lying that I DESPISE the question, “How are you?” I hate it! And I live in the freaking south, so the standard greeting here is, “Hey. How are you?” or some form of this question. Nine times out of ten, the person doesn’t give a flying pig with golden wings how you are feeling and most of the time they are already doing something else by the time you say assumed, “fine.” But what should you say when you’re not fine? I usually just nod my head, or actually smile and say, “Hey,” instead of actually answering them. And the funny thing is most of the time they don’t even realize I haven’t actually answered their question.

So with that said, this week was one of those weeks that I wanted to punch the next person that asked me how I was doing in the face. Because when they asked me how I was doing an entire list of words ran through my mind and none of them were, “fine.” Exhausted was a frequent option in my mind. Nothing like trouble sleeping, panic attacks during the day and working alongside of some of the most irritating people in the entire population to make you feel like you’re going to fall asleep sitting in your chair. Frustrated was an option too. I was handed a nearly impossible task that should have been easy, but because of my limited mobility it took me an hour to complete it when it shouldn’t have taken more than five minutes. Angry was most certainly in the list. I was informed that I was rude because I told someone that was trying to provoke me that they needed to get the hell away from me…and nothing was said to the individual. I was told after a panic attack that I was going to have to “…just move past these things." (Which if you didn't know, this is possibly one of the worst things you can say to someone who struggles with panic attacks.)

Devastated was on the list today especially. I was informed that because of all my mental health problems that I do not need to be in the workforce…that I would have to try and get disability benefits. Let me tell you…that is not something a 26 year old wants to hear. It’s like having your heart ripped out of your chest, stomped on and then shoved back down your throat. It’s like there is a new hollowness inside that I can’t do anything about. It’s It seems like I continuously stand by and watch all my friends move forward in their lives while my life continuously falls apart. And I fight so hard to make my life better. But it’s like the harder I fight, the worse things get.

I wish I had some way of turning this post around and putting a happy inspirational spin on the end of this…but it’s not in me tonight. Tonight, I feel broken inside. So, tonight I will lay my head on my pillow and try for that peaceful sleep that has been denied to me all week long and then tomorrow I will get up and find a lawyer to help me officially declare myself disabled. I am truly shattered tonight.

Love, Randi