Still walking said on January 9, 2019
I have a depressive and anxiety disorder. I'm fighting back tears just from typing that out. I hate it. Last month, my state insurance dropped my coverage without warning. I've had a chronic sinus infection since August 2018 and had a surgery scheduled (sinuplasty) that promised eventual relief. The day after I learned I needed surgery for a damn neverending sinus infection, I learned I need oral surgery because the root of the only wisdom tooth I have is dangerously close to the facial nerve governing the right side of my face.
Cue insurance cancellation notice.
Cue panicked scrambling for paperwork to file appeal.
Enter New Year.
Receive denial of appeal.
ENT specialist cancels surgery due to loss of insurance.
Now comes a desperate effort to receive insurance coverage through husband's employer. I am in limbo, waiting.
In limbo, I have no medication for the depression, anxiety, or sinus infection. It's all building up and I'm struggling. My family tries hard to be supportive but this whole mess is a huge burden. It's like constantly carrying a 30ft long board across my shoulders. Sure, I'm the one carrying it. But they have to move around it. It takes up their space, and is impossible to ignore. Because it limits me, they have to pitch in and do things on my behalf. They don't have to say anything out loud. I know what a nuisance it is, because it tells me all the time. It whispers in the back of mind, never allowing me to forget that my burden is a massive inconvenience for those I love.
This is my giant, 30ft long board. And it's heavy. It's hurting me to carry it. I keep moving forward because I don't want to be weak. I don't want this board to break me. But I am so very, very tired.
I used to talk about it with friends and family. It gets a little lighter when I manage the courage to acknowledge its existence. Then I noticed what was really happening was I was taking chunks of my board and putting it on someone else's shoulders, forcing them to carry a part of it around, too. Sometimes they gave me permission to do that, but after a while I could see the strain it caused them. Intimately familiar with how awful it is to carry that around, I felt guilty. And when they forgot about it, when they absentmindedly put that chunk down in order to tend to their own burdens, I stayed quiet. Even though that meant the weight was immediately transferred back to me.
The medications made my burden lighter, too. And I was so thankful, because that was a solution that didn't hurt anyone. But…now those are gone.
I know that somewhere up ahead is relief. The husband's insurance will kick in, I can get my meds back, have the surgery, feel better. I don't know *when* or how long I'm going to have to trudge along like this. And I'm realizing that I can't hold out forever. My mind and body have limits I have no control over. I'm not invincible. I'm human.
And I'm desperate.
That's why I'm writing this. Because I need to acknowledge this damn 30ft board, without forcing any more burden on those around me. Because if I have to watch them struggle, it will wear out my resolve even faster, and for all our sake's I can't do that.
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