It's been a long time since either John or I posted. Life has been happening to us. Since I last posted, my oldest brother has made his transition. That was in September, and it was quite a shock. For the first month, I did okay with it. I stayed in Arkansas for over a month with my mother. The point was to support her, but the time supported me, too. I did better in that month than I've done in a long time. Emotionally, I was pretty level, health wise, I was great; my blood-sugars were in the normal range. I was strong and supportive.
Then I got home. John was gone to school for the National Guard, and I guess I needed him more than I realized. Anyway, I kind of...ummm, fell apart. Of course, I'm also still dealing with the loss of my father in February. The stress of the combined losses was more than I could deal with. So, I had one of my bipolar moments. I went off my meds and got a little crazy. Suicidal thoughts and morbid ideations about my precious little kitties. I wasn't seeing my therapist or my psychiatrist, the two people who were most qualified to help me. I totally isolated myself from the people who care about me. It was a pretty rough time.
I couldn't leave the house, yet I couldn't stay at home in this empty apartment. I would sit for hours at a time at Barnes & Noble, trying to read but not having the concentration to get into anything. I would sometimes take my tarot cards and study them, and that seemed to work for me. I would panic, literally, whenever anyone looked as though they were going to approach me for conversation. Then, I'd eventually come home and panic again. There is a spot on the street I live on that causes me to panic, even still. I don't identify that spot as scary; there is nothing particularly ominous about the houses on my street. Back then, my panic had to do with my babies, our cats. I would have these very vivid pictures of what had happened to Frankie, B'Orange and Nana while I was gone. It's irrational, I know -- I knew it then, on one level -- but I would stand there with my key in the door, not turning it. I was too scared to go in the house, so I'd stand there for several moments with these vivid pictures going through my mind. My fear was that someone had broken into our apartment and violently killed our cats while I was gone. Not stole our stereo, no concern about that. No concern about the computers that sit in our office. Just fear about the cats.
As I say, things are much better now. I'm still sleeping much more than I usually do, and I'm taking my meds sporatically. But much better than I was before. This last episode was a real wake-up call for me. Had I been working, I would have no-doubt lost my job. It's hard to work when you don't have the energy to get out of bed. It's hard to work when you can't leave the house or interact with people. So, I've decided to apply for Social Security Disability. It was a very hard decision for me to make. It feels as though I'm giving in to this disease and letting it win. But it's obvious to me that I couldn't have worked through this last episode. And it's my understanding that this disorder usually gets progressively worse, not better.
So, how do I reconcile Law of Attraction and an application for disability? I'm not sure. A lot of people will probably say that I'm limiting the Universe by stating how money should come to me. But you know, I can only intend for what I believe can come to me. Maybe some people can believe that they can be in my position and attract an income without working or without being on disability. I'm just not there yet; I hope to get there some day. And maybe some people can believe that they can manifest healing in their lives so that they could go back to work. Again, I'm just not there yet. I just don't believe that I can heal myself of this disability at this time. Again, hopefully, I'll get there soon.
So, I've thought about it and I really do want my application for disability to be approved. I also want healing and health (physical and emotional/mental/spiritual) and I want to go back to work. But, given my beliefs right now, healing will be a process, not a quantum leap thing. In the meantime, I need the financial benefits (both money and insurance) that come with disability. And the respect for my illness (with my mother, for example) that might come with it. The reality is that I just may not be ready for healing, but I need some financial cushioning anyway. Wayne Dyer -- or was it Richard Bach, I never can remember which -- said, "Argue for your limitations and they're yours." I'm aware that I'm arguing for a limitation, so it's taken a lot of thought -- both before my application and since -- to reach the point I'm at now. I'm ready to actively work to bring about a positive response to my application. I'm ready to do manifesting work, whatever that might be. I've written a friend with more manifestation experience than have and asked her to help me with this process.