Tommorrow, the Social Security Disability services is going to call me for an interview, evaluate my medical history and gather information. I'm trying incredibly hard not to think about it. Most people don't make SSDI at first, I know. So I'm bracing myself for that possibility, because what if it doesn't happen? It's a slap in the face, the government saying that my being sick isn't sick enough. I still haven't gotten to the point that talking about it doesn't dredge up the negative emotions, let yourself concentrate too long, and the oubliettes start to overflow and fill your mind with the dark sludge of the worst possibilities. What if I break down and cry on the phone? What if it's so hard to talk about that I shut down about it again?
I had an hour to kill while waiting for Brian to finish up work, and I wandered through Borders over to the self-help section, looking for some written affirmation to get me through tomorrow. I'm not a big fan of self-help books, they seem like the fan art of the psychological world, but they have a place. None of the titles seemed to fit my situation though, and I flipped by titles similar to "Awakening your purpose", "How to live stress free" and "Change your thoughts" before finding a misplaced copy of the children's book "Where is Baby's Belly Button?". The mental image of a distraught person flipping vainly through the titles before finding that title with an "Aha! It is solved!" expression made me snicker to myself far more than it should have.
I wandered over to the health section, and opened up "My Lobotomy" by Howard Dully before deciding that its the last thing I need to read right now. Paged through the nearby "A Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down" by Anne Fadiman, which didn't seem much better for my situation, considering it lacks a particularly happy ending, but I still want to read it sometime. Read a page or two of Oliver Sacks, which still touches me in its own way, but those were already old friends without anything new to offer.
I wish I had a community to join, Yes We All Have This Problem, to commiserate and problem solve, but I'm singular in my symptomology. I can't explain myself in a few words to someone who goes "Ah! Yes my cousin had that...." So tomorrow, I have to do the long discussion, hear the silence as they contemplate, or the endless questions as they try to figure things out. I don't know which is worse.