After a million phone calls I finally found a psych place that accepts Medicare and is taking new patients. I have an appointment for an intake a week after I get to Colorado. I’ve also found a chiropractor and massage therapist I want to try out plus a GP, pain specialist, and gynecologist who seem promising. Many more calls to make but at least things are in motion!
Basically everything is packed, other than the stuff I’ll need over the next few weeks. Matt’s coming here next weekend to help me finish a few things. I’m leaving the 5th, spending the night in Kentucky, spending the next night in Missouri, picking Matt up from the airport the next morning, and then he’s driving with me that day to Colorado. It’s almost time, you guys!
I had a dream about my mom. But it wasn’t my mom. Well, it was but if my mom had been sane. She was showered and clean and her teeth hadn’t rotted away and her hair wasn’t pulled out. She wasn’t screaming, she wasn’t enraged, she wasn’t violent. She was happy; god she was happy. She was my mom without the crazy, without the mental illness, without the pain. The joy I felt was overwhelming.
I woke up and fell back asleep. In my next dream I was sobbing because I realized the last one had only been a dream. I wish she had had that. I wish she had gotten help. I wish her demons hadn’t been so strong.
But it reminds me why I work so hard. Why I fight and take my meds and try and try and try. Because I can survive this. I will survive this. I am surviving this.