OMG Jim, you hit the nail on the head. I loved where I lived before in MD (30 years) and everything was there … close friends, doctors, church, my own condo, a job with a dentist, and I knew the town like the back of my hand. Due to some "ponzi" scheme on the part of a unscrupulous "wealth manager" I lost 90% of my father's inheritance to me. Now I essentially live on S.S. and by the generosity of my son he sends me some money each month. I've been trying to find a job since I moved here (4 years ago) but at 75 …. well, you can imagine. I do feel totally alone. Since I have not been able to connect with a church at this point, that doesn't help. I live in a low-income apartment complex which is totally unsafe (my SIL wants me to get a gun – absolutely NOT), so he got me a "bear pepper spray" and a "tazer". I never go out after dark. The Psychiatrist I use down here is very nice, but very busy …. each person only gets about 10 min. with him, just for a med. check. I did go to the hospital 1 time when I was in MD and went to a group for 4 weeks which was wonderful. We were all limping along emotionally and just getting to know there were others like you was a great help. My 2 adult girls convinced me to move down here because it was "so wonderful." Well, to them I'm sure it is but they've been here for years. The "wet blanket" part is merely an analogy …. in a dark wet hole, with a black, wet, blanket over me, calling out and no one will listen. That is how it feels. Somedays I feel like just walking away from all this, with my dog, and never to be seen again. But, financially, that's not a possibility. So I spend 90% of my time in my apartment. Some days I don't answer the phone or the door. I have not gotten dressed yet today and I doubt I will ….. I'll just stay in my bathrobe, watch mindless TV, and sleep. Oh and take the dog out. I have truly thought about ending it all, and there is the perfect way down here that no one would find me for days. Between Charlottesville and Staunton there is route 64, which runs along the spine of mountains, connecting the Appalachians and the Blue Ridge. If I drove over that at night (which I never do), took my seatbelt off, and really gunned the engine, I could go right over the edge and no one would know for days. But, I don't think I have the nerve to really do it. Afraid to live and afraid to die. My 2 daughters down here really don't want to hear anything at all …. they want everything to be peaches and cream, so I put on a good face. My therapist in MD called it "good Suzy". As soon as I try to tell them anything at all, no matter how small, they just say "yea" and walk away. That doesn't help. My son is in Northern Virginia and I don't see him very often, but bless him, he does send me money each month or I wouldn't make it.
Thank so so very much for sharing your story …. it helps so much to know exactly what it feels like. So often you feel so alone that you're sure you're the only one, and you're nuts!
Bless you Jim, and thank you, thank you, Please keep in touch.
Abby (yes, I have a Celtic Harp – I'm Scotch)