Checking the mail

I managed my main goal for today. I went to lunch with my friend. I took out a bag of trash. I checked my mail.

It was about as bad as expected (the mail). Collection notices, bills, and a lot of junk. The only good things were one thing saying that I overpaid a hospital, and they were crediting back $100 and something from the IRS saying I owe $0.00.. I didn't think I owed them, so that was odd. I think I didn't respond to some letter a while back saying they were looking to see if I did after I sent a check for something that they claimed I made a mistake on. Still, I get occasional fraud calls claiming to be the IRS, so I panicked at seeing the envelope. Tomorrow I will try to deal with the bill situation. Highest priority is one hospital that sent me a $10,000 bill that I have to contact my insurance about and ask what the hell that's about. I had a moment of clarity last night that sometime during the ECT treatments (where my memory is fuzzy) someone said something about insurance claiming I did TMS. I said that I didn't. My asshole psychiatrist made me see the TMS person to see if insurance would authorize it, and then I never did it because I couldn't afford the out of pocket cost. So it might be that or might be if the hospital tried to bill the insurance before COBRA kicked in, which means that they would have been told I had no insurance. The treatment date is from March, when I definitely did, so it may just be confusion. I also need to check my bank balance to see what I can pay (mainly rent and electric) and I think in therapy discuss if my parents can help with money.

Lunch was pleasant. She hopes I can get help. She was understanding about my situation although not happy about the stuff like me cancelling my psychiatrist appointment last week, but I knew that wasn't rational. She laughed at my random thought yesterday that I should join the army but realizing there is no way in hell they would take someone as crazy as me.

I really struggled to eat. It wasn't just the food. It was like I was struggling at the idea of using a fork. The food I struggled with too. The toast was too buttery and the taste was too much. The eggs.. well I honestly always have been weird about eggs. Like I can only eat scrambled and only if cooked a certain way. I ate sausage. I have been eating vegetarian for a couple months except one trip to McDonald's. It honestly sounded good but somehow eating it was unpleasant. I guess I am staying vegetarian. I just feel weird making substitutions (the meal came with sausage or bacon) or not finishing meals in front of my friend who is a recovering anorexic. She seems to be doing well now but has generally in the past been hard to watch at meals. I remember once days before going inpatient she ate an apple dipped in salt. It was always an unspoken rule that when we ate together (me, her, and at the time two other people from support groups) we ate normally. I had a falling out with one woman when she wanted to do dinner but skip the support group (another taboo), and another woman once couldn't stay because my friend was upset that she said she had already eaten. I am only still friends with one, and I try to respect that my eating could be triggering. In the end, I managed half my meal because between the fork, the toast, and my exhaustion.. it was too much. I am honestly happy that I wasn't fond of the sausages because really do have an objection to eating meat. No offense to those who do, but I struggle with the idea that eating a pig is so different from eating one of my cats. I have struggled with the idea for a long time. It was only because my stomach was so screwed up and that I couldn't cook but had to eat, that I lived for a while eating only fast food. That made it hard to eat vegetarian.

On the topic of cats. Last night I heard Odd crying (if you've been around cats you know the meow that means something is wrong). I went and checked he looked fine. I went back to my bedroom and heard it again. I went to check again and Nermal had a plastic bag stuck on her head and Odd was standing there crying. It was really funny. I took off the bag and told them they were OK. Odd followed me to my bedroom and I gave him pets and told him it was ok. I have honestly never had cats that got along this well. Like he stands guard while she eats at my parents house. His name is really Odd Thomas and my mom calls him Thomas, but I have always found Odd more fitting.