The past month has presented me with challenges that have left me emotionally exhausted: I lost my healthcare and went two weeks without lifesaving liver medication I take, finally ending up in the hospital last week; months of job hunting and barely getting interviews has left me demoralized and deflated; I’m selling off everything of value I own just to keep myself fed and haven’t had more than $20 to my name in weeks; and finally, today, my parents chose to inform me that effective immediately all ties are severed, including the financial support that has kept me in my apartment for the last three months.
On Thursday when I need to tell my landlord I can no longer pay the rent, it’s only a matter of time before I end up homeless. I’m terrified and overwhelmed, and woefully unprepared for so many dramatic life changes.
I’m confident that I will not be relapsing, as I know that will only make things much worse. But I found myself fantasizing about suicide most of today which concerns me, although I’m also fairly confident I would never take my own life.
But I am finding it incredibly difficult today to have faith in my HP. How much worse do things have to get before they intervene and alleviate my suffering? It’s hard not to just make peace with the notion that this is how the rest of my life will be—endlessly fighting uphill battles with virtually no joy in my life.
I’m finding it hard to find gratitude and really have no idea how I’m going to recover from this. For now, all I can do is hope I wake up tomorrow and experience even a glimmer of hope. Without it, I’m not sure I will have the energy to keep fighting.
