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About illness

Little steps forward, little steps back

Sometimes it feels like you get a tiny bit of good news and you feel a tiny bit hopeful and then things just fall down again.

I’m on new medication which is making things worse before it makes things better. But I got two bits of good news. (Actually three, my Hyperbole and a Half book is on the way).

For the first time since I opened up about wanting to kill myself, I have an appointment with a psychologist. I know they don’t suddenly fix everything and I don’t expect her to be a miracle worker. But it’s good to have something to hold on to on the mornings when I am doubled over on the floor weeping.

The second bit of good news was that Ashleigh Young liked the poem I’ve written for NZ Twitter Poetry Night. I hold her and her writing in high regard so I’m thrilled.

(For a second, anyway. Now I have to record it and I’m so anxious I want to be sick).

Anyway, you may remember a while ago I mentioned an ACC bill. It was over $1000 but my accountant managed to get it reduced to $657, which is due by 17 January. I’ve been saving up and have half of it.

Last week (or was it the week before? It’s all blurring together), I had a panic attack and ended up calling an ambulance because I thought I was dying. (If you don’t understand this, have a read of my post about panic attacks).

What I didn’t realise is that ambulances aren’t free, not in my region anyway. So today I got a bill for $84, as a result of my stupid brain convincing me I was dying, and having to sit in an ambulance in my driveway for 30 minutes doing breathing exercises.

It’s Christmas. I want to buy people presents. I really, really want to go on a small trip to see again and meet anew the special people who have supported me through this awful time. I’m supposed to be going to Melbourne with my mother in March and the idea is laughable. (Because of the money but also because of recent things and it’s for NINE days).

This is going nowhere. I’m just complaining about being poor, which is revolting really because I am full full full of privilege.

Thank you to everyone who has offered to help me. I can’t accept anything directly from you, but there’s a way to help with the ambulance bill if you refer here. It’s an old post but the details are same. If you are going to give anything, please make it tiny tiny tiny because I will get through this and I’m having a real hard time accepting anything at all.

You guys literally make me cry with your kindness.

UPDATE FIVE HOURS LATER

Two more happy things happened! My wonderful friends Stacey and Sandrine gave me groceries – and I got an unexpected cheque in the mail that will pay my ambulance bill! So relieved. So I don’t need any money, thank you so much to everyone who offered. I’m so lucky to know you all.

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About writehandedgirl

Sarah is a writer who is passionate about social justice, feminism, politics, and cats. She is a columnist and poet and currently lives in Nelson. You can follow Sarah on Twitter (@writehandedgirl) or read more of her writing at writehanded.org

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