I just got a letter from the Social Work department at A&M. I began to panic. I began to think that maybe they were rethinking my position in the program. I know what I’d said to my advisor through my journal about being bipolar was confidential, but that didn’t keep me from thinking that maybe she said something about it. I carefully opened the envelope. All it said was that I should have a good rest of the summer and that they’re looking forward to my participation in Social Work programs and classes. I’ve really got to stop jumping the gun.
I was told by “Val” at the Mental Health Center that GSK required that I apply for Medicaid before they would send me my next shipment of medication. I searched the site for a program that I would qualify for. The only thing that was remotely close to something I could apply for was the Low Income Families program. That was a long shot, but I filled out the application online. In the end, it said I wasn’t eligible. I was too old. If I had been pregnant, though, then it would have been a sure thing. Well, I called GSK this morning to let them know. Guess what they said? They didn’t want me to apply for Medicaid in the first place. They knew I wouldn’t qualify. Val made the whole thing up. Ugh. And this is the same woman who is supposed to take care of my Effexor and Geodon prescriptions. I used to like her when she was a receptionist, but now as an “advocate” she’s just a huge pain.
I have an appointment tomorrow with the lovely people at the Social Security office about my SSI claim. I had to change my appointment time yesterday and I got to speak to the kindest person in the world. I called and said that I needed to change my appointment. I gave the date and time of my current appointment, but the person needed to know who my appointment was with. I looked on the sheet. There was no name. I told the person this. She kept pestering me to tell her who my appointment was with, and I kept telling her that there was no name. Finally she looked the whole thing up and switched me to that person. The person gave me her name, but I was so close to having a panic attack (phones are evil) that I have no clue what she said. I just know my appointment will be at 3:30 instead of 2:30. Hopefully, I can make that appointment.
I’m nervous about the appointment. I have to take bank statements with me to prove that I’m not to “rich” to receive SSI benefits. I don’t think I have too much in my accounts, but I don’t know. I’m scared that they’ll deny me if I have just 1 cent too much. It’s weird to think that you can be physically or emotionally disabled, but you may not get accepted into a program because you have too much money…even when you don’t have much money at all.
On Saturday, I get to meet Natasha, or, as I refer to her, Tasha. I’m rather excited about it. I’ve never met anyone from online before, so this is kind of a anxiety-inducing thing. I’m happy, but I’m anxious. I hope it goes well. We get along so well online, but I tend to be a bit more shy and awkward offline than I am online. I just hope everything goes well.
Oh, and right now I’m debating with a guy/girl called “Testament” over whether God would love an axe murderer more than a good non-Christian. Apparently, God loves axe murderers more because they’ve accepted Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior. That just seems wrong to me.