No idea

May has come and gone, as well as most of June and my stress level has been so high that I swear I'm going to have either a heart attack, stroke or aneurysm at any moment. I'm physically sick from the stress and anxiety I've been experiencing and little seems to calm me down, well, except a drink or two along with a dose of Ativan, but even that only offers a temporary reprieve of an hour or two.

After a ton of stress filling out paperwork and trying to get the right forms to the right people (that's a whole other post I'm not even going to get into), I have supposedly been approved for an apartment in the building I spoke about in my last post. My daughter and I went there on June 10th to fill out more paperwork for the property management company, take a tour of the building, select an apartment and put down a deposit. I was told they were doing one last credit check and if I was approved, I'd hear from them by Wednesday. As the day wore on, I got more and more anxious, so I decided to call and was given verbal confirmation that yes, I was approved and that I'd be receiving an approval letter in the mail. That was on the 12th. It's now the 20th and I have heard nothing back from anyone.

I have no idea what my rent and utilities will be. No idea when or if I'll be moving in. No idea if I should start packing or if they've changed their mind and given the apartment to someone more worthy. There are so many different agencies involved at this point that I'm not even sure who to start calling to find out the answers to any of my questions and I'm still too stressed to pick up the phone and deal with any runaround I might be given.

On top of the stress and anxiety, I've sunk into a severe depression again as well. I haven't gotten to the point where I'm planning anything, but I am at the point where I can't help but wonder is any of this worth it. Is taking my next breath worth the struggle to pass myself off as living when I always feel so dead inside?

My therapist wanted me to explain to her what my depression is like. I didn't say anything because I've written what it feels like time and time again here on my blog. Maybe I'll just print out some examples and bring them to her. Her belief is that if you can describe the feelings, it will lessen their hold on you, or something along those lines. I don't subscribe to her way of thinking, because if that were true, I'd never have experienced so much soul-sucking depression since the age of 14.