If It's 3AM I Must Be wide-Awake and Listening to Lady Gaga

I get HBO On-Demand so can watch Lady Gaga's Madison Square Garden concert whenever I need background music to work by.
I'm trying to face the reality of the staggering debt that I'm in. Like so many I thought since I had "good" health insurance I really had nothing to fear. I always paid my little $20 co-pays and thought I was good to go. But the co-pays resulting from 3 long term hospitalizations in 18 months coupled with the individual doctor bills I already had have added up to thousands of dollars. Throw in my husband's unpaid student loan, maxed out credit cards a $30,000 Small Business Administration start-up loan (don't even think about defaulting on these people) not to mention the 2 dear friends that invested serious cash in my business and I've got almost $75,000. There's an organization that may be able to help us but first I have to pull it ALL together. Looking at your financial picture, no matter how much or little you owe is a very scary thing. Between the money I invested to start up my small business (and was subsequently forced to close due to my stroke) and my medical bills I've never been so deeply in debt. Since I'm now on what is jokingly referred to as a "fixed-income" from disability and my pension) there'll be no more raises in my life time that I can count on to help me dig out of this hole.

My telephone is now being held hostage by collection agencies. They make robo- calls to me all day demanding payments. I've tried to make arrangements with them but paying $25 a month really doesn't' cut it when owe someone $2,500. So now I turn the ringer off and look at the ID listed to see if its someone I know or if the call is in my area code and from a doctor.  When I worked and had a large salary I thought of people like me as "dead beats" that didn't honor their responsibilities. If you don't think the universe has a hell of a sense of humor talk to me about it sometime.  To go from a six-figure salary to contemplating bankruptcy 4 years later is not nearly as funny as the movies would have you believe. I follow the recommendations you always read that say pay your mortgage and utilities, food, gas, etc. If there's anything left I try to send small payments to creditors.

Still, there is something about putting it all down on paper and facing it that's given me much more of a sense of relief than I expected. It's a relief to actually see the numbers rather than have them constantly rolling and rattling around inside my head. I've also decided this is a major step towards owning my own current situation, bad health, deep debt and all. I took myself from being a teenage welfare mother to being Assistant Commissioner of Welfare for my entire State. I can do this. Well I can do it at 4:30AM in the morning. The vampire in me fades a great deal in the daylight.

The Hardest Part of Blogging Is Honesty

I'm learning that one of the hardest parts of writing a blog is putting your life out there. You start off thinking you're willing to tell the whole wide world how you're feeling but then the reality hits. You start asking yourself question's like "Do I really want to talk about my sex life, my finances, my favorite foods?" Alright so maybe not favorite foods. But talking about really personal issues can give you pause, to say the least. I'm 56 but I talk like I'm 96. I constantly refer to myself as old and if I looked in the mirror (which I rarely do) I doubt I'd recognize myself. I think it's a combination of having retired and being on disability at the same time. Everything happened at once and all of it too fast. It's taken me four years to face the reality of who I am now. I think I've finally waded my way out of the Swamp of Self-Pity although I understand now how people get lost and never find their way out. The cliche "it's like swimming through mud" comes to mind alot.

In the past I arrogantly said things like "If she really wanted to change she would." I feel like i should hunt up all the people I said things like that to and apologise. I've gone through some pretty dark times in my life but these last four years have been among the worse. Still, I have been extraordinarily fortunate to have a devoted husband and good health insurance. The good health insurance brought me the medical and psychiatric help I needed to climb out of the swamp. I decided to treat retirement like a business that I really enjoy. I'm helping two non-profits I respect with grant searches and possibly grant writing. I've also signed up for something called Volunteer Match. I figure at the very least I can help non-profits find grants. I've been complaining to my husband that no one wants my 25+ years of grants experience. What I really meant was why aren't people pounding down the door or calling me on the phone begging for help. The truth is no matter what your field except for a few people our time in the spotlight is brief. That's a hard thing to accept. I keep thinking that the problem with Hillary Clinton (stay with me on this) was that she couldn't accept that her time to be top dog had passed and it was President Obama's turn. She's got an amazing job now but it's not President. I was once so popular I actually turned down requests to sit on non-profit boards. I once had breakfast (many many years ago) with the Chancellor of the State University of New York. I don't know which left me feeling more speechless - his apartment or the woman waiting on me hand and foot. I was all that and thought I always would be. Boy was I wrong. Things change and time runs out. Most important of all the old ones were right. They used to always tell us "at least you have your health." I never understood what they meant until I suddenly didn't have my health to count on.

So anyway the journey continues. The pulmonologist said that, although my lungs are down to 50% capacity that's still alot better than he expected. In fact he was down right puzzled about it. I figure with all those people saying they were going to pray for me or at least think good thoughts about me it really helped.