This is long and somewhat drawn out. I apologize, but you’re all I have left to ask for help.

 I am diagnosed Manic Depressive, Agoraphobic, and OCD with panic and anxiety. I have had them since I was about 6 and managed all of them as best I could however I could. For the better part of the past 8 years I’ve done so without medication. I was only able to accomplish that through a very strong sense of self, a very structured and ordered personal environment, and every ounce of self discipline and control being exercised continually. Until recently when it all broke into so many more fractured, shattered, annihilated

About 6 months ago I discovered what I term the "eeewww factor". It was almost an overnight change and I have no idea why or how  I came to acquire it. What it means is that, for the first time in my life I was a typical "girl" (sorry to all the girls reading this I’ve always been such a tom-boy that the term just never worked for me), and the things that gross out "most people" also had the same effect on me.

Unfortunately it was a little worse than this, and I found that I couldn't stomach even the most minor of  "offensive" topics, visuals, or considerations. This isn't a big deal, I suppose, unless your college major is mortuary science, which:

1)    includes embalming, anatomy and pathology;

2)   you've already finished more than half of a 3 semester program;

3)   you've wanted to do this for 16 years and finally had the opportunity;

4)   you never imagined anything could happen to interfere with this particular goal so you horribly miscalculated by not having a Plan B for the first time in your life;

5)   you are at the mercy of your mother and step-father who have given you a place to live and not have to work while you’re in school;

6)   you haven't lived in your mother’s house since you were 16, 24 years ago ~ there are an number of painful, unhealthy, and threatening reasons for this, which I’m sure I’ll share with you all later;

7)   you finally pulled it together enough to have a Plan B, which worked out perfectly, up to and including moving 300 miles away from the chaos, hurt, confusion, disappointment and apathy of the people closest to you. A move to an area in which the local community college has a degree program in your alternate major ~none of the schools where you moved from offered a degree, only a certificate…you did not move in with your parents at 41 years old, again after 24 years, for a certificate only.

And here’s the coup de grace… The same day my parents told me I could move up here, live in their vacant never used vacation home, and go to the school with the degree program I chose as my alternate major… I was told that the only person I’ve been close to in years, who was also the last person I had an intimate relationship with, albeit tumultuous and often painful, had hung himself a few days before in rehab.

The scheduled plan was that I start moving the following day, so that’s what I did. To a place I’ve never lived before, where I don’t know a single person, with the intention to find a new job, start at a new school, and adjust to all of this alone. Alone would have been fine if I hadn’t lost Chris when I did, the way I did. In the 3 months since his death and my relocation, I have barely been able to move, think, feel anything but loss, and a hole I will never be able to fill again. Our relationship was unique due to the conditions we both have/had. His was never diagnosed because once he started on the drugs no one would consider anything else. Sadly, it’s more than apparent now that it wasn’t just the drugs. We shared a part of ourselves with each other that no one else could deal with, recognize, or even accept. It was the only peace I know I had, and I believe he had in our lives at all.

I can’t express my frustration, hurt, confusion, and further sense of loss when the only 4 people I had considered friends, 2 literally family and 2 more of acquaintances, explained they wouldn’t visit because it was too far to drive. A drive which up until only the past few weeks I was making on a regular basis to see them because it was  a death sentence for me to stay in an empty house, in the foothills without any people nearby, and my service weapon close at hand.

Please keep in mind, as a rule I ask no one for anything. So when I finally do it’s very important, never petty or trivial. It’s also extremely rare that I accept any help. This is due to the OCD more than anything else. I asked my “friends” and got “sorry, can’t help ya”. My family has no clue how bad it is because I refuse to involve my mother in anything if it can be avoided, she’s also a death sentence for me. I am supposed to have been in school, found a job, and be working my way blissfully to independence, but the reality is I can’t move. I can’t think. I can’t find anyone to talk to that doesn’t charge money that I can’t pay.

I adopted 2 kittens from the local shelter 3-4 weeks ago, when I was terrified of the responsibility for them. I had to get them because I couldn’t keep wandering around by myself, feeling the way I did/do in a 3 bedroom, 2 bath, 3,000 sq ft house on an acre of land, owned by 2 of the people who have caused more pain, damage, and loss than anyone else in my life. In a place that is too far for anyone to visit no matter that I was having suicidal considerations for the first time in 8 years.

It’s still just me and my kittens, literally life savers, but I am pretty much out of time for staying here and I have done nothing to find a job, get enrolled in school, take care of my financial aid paperwork for spring, or anything else that would certainly be in my best interest for that matter.

This is where I need some help. I’ve been in bad shape before but not like this, not without even one single resource of my own. Not without one friend to tell me I’ll get through this. Not without some sense of something that mattered to me. The last time it was this bad I flat-lined on the ER operating table. And event what led to that, in retrospect, wasn’t nearly as lonely as this. The only reasons I’m holding at all are the kittens. They give enough love and acceptance for 20 humans. Unfortunately that only makes it harder to think about leaving for work or school.

If you have any thoughts on how to break from the feeling of being paralyzed and unable to move or leave the house for any length of time, please share them with me. If you are in or have been in the same or a similar situation, please tell me, I’d like to hear about it. I will gladly take whatever anyone feels they have to offer. Right now it’s all I have to work with.

Thank you in advance. I can honestly say I can’t do it without you.

M