I keep praying for change.

Defeat and hopelessness is all I feel right now. The letters to politicians mostly led to more “that’s not my domain” answers thus far. The bit of help offered was from Rose Walker’s office, but their suggestions and offers are really in getting me services once I actually have a home of my own. I’m holding out hope that my state Senator’s office calls back with an actual date and time for me to meet with him personally. His assistant seemed sympathetic, but helping is a very different thing. I’ve learned a harsh lesson becoming mobility impaired. A lot of lessons, and heartache and loss of hope.

I really need to do major grocery shopping. Not that I’m physically able to cook much at all, but I’m sick eating whatever happens to be available. It’s not healthy. I’d give my dad the list, but I think that’s asking a bit much. He’s not exactly a vegetarian or into much ethnic food. If Peapod took SNAP (food stamps),  I’d be set. I bet my dad would even cover the delivery fee to help me out!

I can no longer cook an actual meal, do any laundry, take a shower standing, clean up after myself, pick something up off the floor nor care for myself in the way I’m accustomed. I can’t even walk a few steps without wincing in pain.

I feel trapped inside this body and this house and I can’t seem to get this to mean anything to anyone who could possibly help. I put on a brave face and even try to forget all of this long enough to write a blog that isn’t this brand of doom and gloom, but this is reality. It’s how my days go by and as each one passes I can’t help but wonder what the point of all this could possibly be?!

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