So I wake in the morning, I'm groggy from the 400mg of seroquel I took the nite before. After managing to muster up the energy to get the kids up, dressed and ready for school, I come home and crash...I sit there, head in hands just wondering what I need to do. Then it hits me...I can do anything...I can clean every room of the house, I can fix anything that's broken, I can pack up everything that needs to be. Then I take a break...I sit, smoke my cigarette, and start to think. What the hell difference does it make if I clean the house? Why am I packing...I'm not going anywhere for a little while...I'm on disability, I haven't been paid in nearly 2 months. My house is about to go into forclosure, I "need more paperwork" for everything, to get assistance, to get my disability, for food stamps, for anything, and I'm not getting it! I have no money to feed my kids, to put heating oil in my tank, to put gas in my car, to get ahead of anything. Then I break down, I run for my xanax...almost all gone...can't afford another Rx. I calm down enough from the meds...but what the hell am I going to do now?
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