I’m breaking one of my Golden Rules by not telling you how crazy I am at the moment.
Honesty. That’s what I pledged.
So, okay.
I went to a presentation today about some of the new programs rolling out with ObamaCare and the Mental Health Redesign in Iowa. A program called Intensive Psychiatric Rehabilitation Services (IPRS) focuses on reducing a client’s stressors. Because (this is radical, now) reducing stress will reduce symptoms, which will ultimately allow someone with a mental illness to function more independently.
Thank you, People in Suits, for finally getting it.
Last week, I wrote that I had $11 in my billfold, and that I was determined to still hold that $11 when my Disability check came. Well, I didn’t make it. If I was only going to do laundry every other week ($15 at the laundromat), I needed more socks. So I bought socks. And a 89¢ notebook to keep track of grocery prices and specials.
Then, the landlord tacked up a sign that said Radar, the bedbug-sniffing beagle, was coming for his quarterly inspection the next day. That meant packing up the cats (which they hate), their litter boxes, food, and anything Radar might get into and hauling everyone out to my Mom’s for the day. She’s only marginally tolerant of animals in the house, so the boys had to stay in the basement, where Emmett promptly found a hidey-hole that he refused to leave. Cut to seven hours later, and he sashayed past me with thirty-year-old dust bunnies stuck to his fur. Finally, we got home, but I’d lost my only winter hat and my phone.
This is the danger of stress—breakage, forgetfulness, locking myself out of the apartment or truck, falling on the ice, losing stuff. One flat tire turns into a fifty-car pile up and a long discussion with the tire store. And with each incident, my capacity for navigating and problem-solving shrinks. I liken it to a teacup. Stress shrinks the cup. Too much stress flattens the cup into a saucer. Then, the slightest bump sloshes out the tea. And if the saucer empties out completely—hello, Psych Ward.
So, I talked to the caseworker at the presentation today and will be getting a referral for IPRS. Mom found my hat in her driveway. My phone was under some sacks in my back seat. And I don’t have bedbugs.
Today was a pretty good day.
Jan 31, 2014 @ 20:16:31
Well described.
Jan 31, 2014 @ 21:12:40
Grazie.
Feb 01, 2014 @ 13:22:10
I go FAR out of my way-to not encounter stress…it works, it really does.
Feb 01, 2014 @ 19:47:21
It’s the key, right? So all in favor of cave-dwelling raise their hands.
Feb 02, 2014 @ 19:38:48
my little house is cave like-my hand is raised!
Feb 03, 2014 @ 05:12:42
HooHoo!
Feb 01, 2014 @ 13:47:52
Congratulations on the bed-bug situation. Hang in there, sweetie – you got this. (trying for “cheerleader”, hope it doesn’t come across as “annoying”)
Feb 01, 2014 @ 19:46:41
I kinda like the idea of an annoying cheerleader. “Gimme a B. No, really, give it to me. Now, jerk-wad!”
Feb 02, 2014 @ 15:30:41
I would love just one day of stress-free living. Well, at the very least, Emmett survived the dust bunnies, your living quarters is bed bug free, and the lost items have been located. There is always a silver lining, eh?
Feb 03, 2014 @ 05:13:13
Maybe not always silver, but always something to be learned.