I'm Editing up top so that it's easier to see what's going on.
First, thank you to those of you who have helped out so far, and who have sont well-wishes and suggestions. I've taken them to heart. And thank you to those people who signal-boosted my shop (I swear, if I get an order from John Scalzi, I'm going to squeal like a fangirl for a day or more)! Thanks to all of you, my phone is paid, and will be working tomorrow (they fucked the SIM, they're replacing it at no charge).
But right now we only have $180 towards the rent out of $650, and our grace period ends tomorrow. We're on good terms with the landlord, but we're on a month to month contract, and when we moved in he told us that rent is one thing he has to be strict on, since at one point the entire building was behind.
As Below, my PayPal is firstname.lastname@example.org, but if you don' feel comfortable with that, message me, and I'll give you my landlord's contact information. It's one of his other businesses, so I"m not violating his privacy.
I really do hate asking for help, but when I'm done asking you, I'm going to call some churches, no matter how much it triggers me, to see if they can help, and if not, if they know who can.
I'm re-starting my SSDI application now that I have a doctor, he has my records, and a handle on my situation. Once it's turned in, I'm calling Sen. Collins and Sen. Snowe, and even, FSM help me, Gov. LePage, to see if it can get marked as urgent need. I'm doing everything I can.
Also, my friend had a 'little talk' with Sarah, and all is well on that front. Well, not well, but better. She needed somebody who wasn't me, who has seen me healthy, to tell her that I really am that sick. Sarah is just too used to it to really get it any more.
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Yesterday one of my dear high school friends came from southern NH to York County, Maine, and made herself late for her job to do it. I'd sent out a call for help--just to get out of the house, because Sarah has been running away.
It's her way of dealing with stress without getting violent. She has severe PTSD. But she forgets to bring her meds (probably intending to come home sooner).
And the stress is because her hours have been cut, by a lot. Thank goodness they didn't lay her off like some of the poor guys (although this is a company that will give them first choice if they begin hiring agin). But our paycheck has been cut by about 1/3.
We can't survive on that.
I remember our landlord wondering why we were getting such a small apartment when Sarah's last 2 paychecks had been so large. We explained that it was just because there had been several rush orders, lots of OT, and Sarah had volunteered to help with other departments to get more hours, so that we would have first month's and deposit. Those 14-15 hour days, 6 days a week, doing heavy manual labor, were killer.
But Sarah needs 12 hour days, at least 5 days a week (with preferably a few hours on the weekend) of manual labor to deal with the PTSD. It gives her a great, productive, non-descrutive outlet. And she's praised by peers and management alike. It's been a perfect setup.
But now times are slow. We couldn't anticipate this. Last year, this time, they were desperately looking for workers.
But now we can't pay this month's rent. Or the phones (don't try to call me, I'm sorry, it won't work; if you have an iPhone (mine may be ancient with no working home button, but you use what you have, right? Besides, I can't run my business without it), you can iMessage me or use FaceTime, if I'm in a place with wifi, like now).
We don't qualify for town assistance, because every once in a while the loaders need help and Sarah will get a tiny bit of OT. Not even really enogh to cover the taxes on it, but enough to be denied.
We're both applying for jobs, but for me, it's a losing battle. I'm disabled, off my meds, with a service dog. I have people pulling strings now, but they'e all down in southern NH.You do what you have to, right?
December will be better. There is always a bonus, and the season picks up for glass. But this month we're screwed. Please help.
Our rent is $650, and our phone bill, including the service charge to get it back up, is $150. I have no problem with people going through middlemen and bringing it straight to my landlord and AT&T. If that's taken care of, I'll find a way to get my meds.
I also have an Etsy shop called Lorelei's Fiber & Yarnwork Shop. There's great stuff there, all handmade, and perfect for Christmas gifts. I'm also really good at custom items!
Wed Dec 05, 2012 at 2:41 AM PT: And my life gets worse. Sarah just told me that she wants a divorce because I'm disabled.
Nevermind that her rages and disappearences stress me out and make my fibro flare, and that when she does come home she yells a lot (pulling out a lot of very unpleasant) childhood memories).
I tried to tell Sarah that I'm appying for jobs and SSDI, and that I wasn't planning on going on a visit (several of you got my note asking to get me out of the house for coffee. But my friend saw me, knows me well enough to see how badly I was doing (first day of HS friends), and pretty much frog-marched me.
Oh, and Sarah clearly stated, in a text message, that she's taking me off her insurance. I was borrowing my friend's phone, Sarah has somehow got one on her own, it must be a trak phone, because I know she's made no large purchases.
I can stay here for 2 weeks, and we're already trying to figure out what comes next. There's a vehicle I can borrow. But that's NOT what I want.
Sarah has tried the divorce ploy before, and we were seperated by half the country for about 6 months. She wanted badly to come back. So I don't know if this is her or the PTSD talking.
And even if it does fall apart, I still need to get the rent squared with my landlord (I'm calling him today).
And thank you everyone who's already helped. My priorities were going to be apartment first, phone last, but these circumstances have changed that. Now it's the phone first, for obvious reasons. If I'm calling temp agencies, jobs, and DHS, I need a phone. So thank you, all of you.
And yes, from what I've gathered, Sarah has washed her hands of the apartment. If I'm wrong about that, I will definately let you know.
I love her so much. I wish this wasn't the way she reacts whenever she gets into a bad PTSD flare.