Hoping I could just forget

Just when you don't think you can get any more mentally stressed, WHAM! You get side-swiped. Back in the middle of April I filled out an application to get on a wait list for an apartment in a new supportive housing building for those with mental and physical disabilities, plus a certain number of units will be specifically reserved for veterans. The building is ironically located just around the corner from where I had spent 7+ years living with my daughter & her sperm donor, before I went completely insane, he cheated on me and I ended up moving back in with the old people.

Anyway, I hadn't expected to hear anything back for awhile, but last Friday I received a rather large packet of forms that needed to be filled out and a rather long list of information that I needed to supply to the Housing Authority at a meeting they scheduled for us yesterday.

Couldn't work on most of it last Friday, Saturday or Sunday because I was working on our NAMI fundraiser. I tried to get some of it together on Monday, but they also needed all the same info from my daughter since she would be living with me when not in school. Couldn't do anything Tuesday because she was moving home for the summer and I was working a mental health fair. Wednesday we had to go renew her ID since they needed a copy of that and then we had to go get one of the forms she had to fill out notarized. A lot of the paperwork was really confusing because of our situation with her being away at school and having her own apartment most of the year.

When we went to the meeting yesterday I was in complete panic mode. I took an Ativan, but I still felt like I was going to pass out, throw up and lose all control of my bowels. It was horrible. Thankfully my daughter had to be there since she was over 18 and would be living with me part time, and she was able to help answer some of the questions they were asking me.

On the way home I was so worked up and needed to relax that we stopped at a bar. We each only had one drink, but that was enough to get me to focus on driving instead of on the panic. I was so spent by the time we got home, I passed out and took a nap. I don't think I've fallen asleep that fast since, without the use of Seroquel, since 2003!

I was hoping I could just forget about the whole thing for now and if they call me great, if not, whatever, but I find myself still thinking about it and when I think about it, I start to panic. I really want this apartment. To have some level of independence, but yet still have staff available that I can go to on site if I start to struggle with anything from taking my medications to dealing with my insurance, that'd be so much better than the living situation I have now.