We're frauds, we are not grown-ups.
How long has it been since I tweeted something? Hmmm.
So sweet, Doc just called from work to check in on me. How was I doing, had I stabbed anyone, the usual questions. He urged me to take some hydroxizine (sp), since I am out of Xanax. It's an allergy med that is used off label as a light-weight anxiety med, like Benadryl used to be. For all I know, it is generic Benadryl.
I think I know what happened with my shrink. Robin, the receptionist/nurse person, was abducted by aliens. In a bind, the doctor hired the first person he could. This person is the person that called and woke me up and talked to me unmedicated and got me to say I was a cash patient, because I didn't have the good sense to pick up the insurance card sitting right there and give her the numbers, I figured in my state, that I could fix it when I went in and saw Robin in a few days for my appointment. I do believe now that Robin is well and truly gone, and this cash thing has put me on a no-call list of some kind, so I can't get them to call me back to fix this. Doc is going into the office tomorrow or the next day and setting this straight and setting up the first possible appointment. I can't believe I fucked myself like this. I am NEVER to answer my phone without Doc in the room unless it's Kelli. I make bad decisions. Especially when the person on the other end of the line has some sort of authority over me. I panic and say shit that makes me just think, "who the hell just said that?"
I still can't figure out why the IRS is taxing my SSI. I've gone over the math, and it doesn't make sense. We are under the threshold, by a mere $4,000, for my SSI to be taxed, according to both the IRS and the SSA.
I got a letter from the SSA. We filled out a form earlier this year about my ability to hold down a job, and I thought for sure it heralded a psych audit, the going over of my records, possible inpatient assessment, definite out-patient assessment. But no, this letter said, no there would be no audit. They were confident in the continuation of my disability. That's 8 years since I've been audited. They'd be wasting their time to do it. The records clearly show I'm mad as a hatter.
So things are up and down. The things that are down seem really, really down, though. It's like all of these adult problems are hitting us. And we are not prepared. We're frauds, we are not grown-ups.
So sweet, Doc just called from work to check in on me. How was I doing, had I stabbed anyone, the usual questions. He urged me to take some hydroxizine (sp), since I am out of Xanax. It's an allergy med that is used off label as a light-weight anxiety med, like Benadryl used to be. For all I know, it is generic Benadryl.
I think I know what happened with my shrink. Robin, the receptionist/nurse person, was abducted by aliens. In a bind, the doctor hired the first person he could. This person is the person that called and woke me up and talked to me unmedicated and got me to say I was a cash patient, because I didn't have the good sense to pick up the insurance card sitting right there and give her the numbers, I figured in my state, that I could fix it when I went in and saw Robin in a few days for my appointment. I do believe now that Robin is well and truly gone, and this cash thing has put me on a no-call list of some kind, so I can't get them to call me back to fix this. Doc is going into the office tomorrow or the next day and setting this straight and setting up the first possible appointment. I can't believe I fucked myself like this. I am NEVER to answer my phone without Doc in the room unless it's Kelli. I make bad decisions. Especially when the person on the other end of the line has some sort of authority over me. I panic and say shit that makes me just think, "who the hell just said that?"
I still can't figure out why the IRS is taxing my SSI. I've gone over the math, and it doesn't make sense. We are under the threshold, by a mere $4,000, for my SSI to be taxed, according to both the IRS and the SSA.
I got a letter from the SSA. We filled out a form earlier this year about my ability to hold down a job, and I thought for sure it heralded a psych audit, the going over of my records, possible inpatient assessment, definite out-patient assessment. But no, this letter said, no there would be no audit. They were confident in the continuation of my disability. That's 8 years since I've been audited. They'd be wasting their time to do it. The records clearly show I'm mad as a hatter.
So things are up and down. The things that are down seem really, really down, though. It's like all of these adult problems are hitting us. And we are not prepared. We're frauds, we are not grown-ups.