sandd2

@sandd2

Why Money and Financial Security Are the 'Cure' to My Depression

There is a cure to my depression, and it’s not medication, going on walks, or reaching out to friends. It’s money. Cold hard cash. Benjamins. A bag, if you may. It’s literally what will solve 99% of my problems that ultimately lead back to why I struggle with chronic depression and anxiety. Maslow knew a thing or two about priorities, and it shows, as his well known hierarchy lists out what’s most important to a person’s survival, to what’s least important. From the bottom to top, the needs are as follows: The largest block are physiological and safety needs which dials down to food, clothing, and shelter as core higher level needs in comparison to being able to go out to happy hour with your friends. If you can’t afford basic food, clothing, or your rent, then your entire core foundation of needs is shaken up and unstable, which can lead to depression and oh boy does it. Many people say that money isn’t everything, and in a lot of ways they’re right. Money isn’t everything except for when it is. The depression I’ve felt at my most financially insecure is only second to the depression I’ve felt at the hands of grief and loss. When you struggle with aspects of suicidality, you need reasons to live. Knowing you can’t physically afford to do so doesn’t exactly help you find reasons to stick it out. It’s not being materialistic, it’s being realistic. The problems I have are contributing massively to my depression, thus money would literally fix all my problems, both financial and mental. OK, maybe not all, but most. The cycle of financial insecurity is dangerous. Depression ignites when you realize how broke you are, anxiety flares when you remember you’re going to have to eat and pay your rent but you have no idea how, only to hopefully make it work and feel some reprieve, but just for it to happen all over again within a week to a month. While some would argue that we should just “get a better job,” they don’t realize how difficult it really is out there. Industries are doing mass layovers, hiring freezes, and companies aren’t promoting a lot right now. Let’s also look at people who are on disability and cannot make more than a certain amount or else they lose their disability benefits. Getting a better job or making more money just isn’t that simple or available to everyone. On top of that, self-care is that much harder to partake in if you can’t afford to. On a foundational level, self-care is making sure your bills are paid, food is in your fridge, and that you can afford your medications. Self-care thus is ruled out simply due to the number in your bank account. So what do you do when you can’t afford to take care of yourself, can’t afford to live, and there’s no “solution” in sight? I’m done pretending that there is some deeper resolution that can be found through self-work. Quite frankly, there isn’t. Money would solve my problems. I need more money, and it’s not materialistic or wrong to feel that way.

Why Money and Financial Security Are the 'Cure' to My Depression

There is a cure to my depression, and it’s not medication, going on walks, or reaching out to friends. It’s money. Cold hard cash. Benjamins. A bag, if you may. It’s literally what will solve 99% of my problems that ultimately lead back to why I struggle with chronic depression and anxiety. Maslow knew a thing or two about priorities, and it shows, as his well known hierarchy lists out what’s most important to a person’s survival, to what’s least important. From the bottom to top, the needs are as follows: The largest block are physiological and safety needs which dials down to food, clothing, and shelter as core higher level needs in comparison to being able to go out to happy hour with your friends. If you can’t afford basic food, clothing, or your rent, then your entire core foundation of needs is shaken up and unstable, which can lead to depression and oh boy does it. Many people say that money isn’t everything, and in a lot of ways they’re right. Money isn’t everything except for when it is. The depression I’ve felt at my most financially insecure is only second to the depression I’ve felt at the hands of grief and loss. When you struggle with aspects of suicidality, you need reasons to live. Knowing you can’t physically afford to do so doesn’t exactly help you find reasons to stick it out. It’s not being materialistic, it’s being realistic. The problems I have are contributing massively to my depression, thus money would literally fix all my problems, both financial and mental. OK, maybe not all, but most. The cycle of financial insecurity is dangerous. Depression ignites when you realize how broke you are, anxiety flares when you remember you’re going to have to eat and pay your rent but you have no idea how, only to hopefully make it work and feel some reprieve, but just for it to happen all over again within a week to a month. While some would argue that we should just “get a better job,” they don’t realize how difficult it really is out there. Industries are doing mass layovers, hiring freezes, and companies aren’t promoting a lot right now. Let’s also look at people who are on disability and cannot make more than a certain amount or else they lose their disability benefits. Getting a better job or making more money just isn’t that simple or available to everyone. On top of that, self-care is that much harder to partake in if you can’t afford to. On a foundational level, self-care is making sure your bills are paid, food is in your fridge, and that you can afford your medications. Self-care thus is ruled out simply due to the number in your bank account. So what do you do when you can’t afford to take care of yourself, can’t afford to live, and there’s no “solution” in sight? I’m done pretending that there is some deeper resolution that can be found through self-work. Quite frankly, there isn’t. Money would solve my problems. I need more money, and it’s not materialistic or wrong to feel that way.

Community Voices

She’s gone

She was the only adult in my life. I’ve got my kids, but I’m their support. I’ve got nobody. My mom noire “family” has abandoned me.
She died peacefully in her sleep. Her body was tired and it was time for her to go. But what do I do now? How do I get over the pain completely alone? I have not even had a hug from an adult.

I love you, Mom.

3 people are talking about this
Community Voices

# day to day events 8-14-22 and days prior
# anxiety # schizophrenia

As far as my mom was concerned - before I would be hospitalized it went something like this: I would take a downward spiral while at work, I would go to work upset day in and day out until I just couldn’t go anymore. I would then take a leave of absence. Either I was living at my parents home or in an apartment. I would get more and more paranoid w/o the structure of a job & being home w/o work - how could I pay my rent? how was I going to pay my bills? etc.. what happened at work? What did I say? What were the other people ( at work) trying to do? How could I have taken another leave? and I would just sit and think. Trying to figure out what happened and why and what was I going to do now. Usually I felt like a coward because I couldn’t handle my job, yet, again . I felt afraid to face anyone.

I would do all this processing. I would sit in the same chair, upset, paranoid , while this was going on- my family could just not tolerate my behavior.

In addition, one time after I had taken a leave of absence from my job. I was feeling quite paranoid and I was at one of my sister’s apartments’. She insisted all I needed was rest. So, she and her husband left me to myself in an adjoining room. While in that room I knew my family was going to put me in the hospital again and I hated it. Dreaded it. I tried to hurt myself. That was when my sister took me to the hospital. And at that time a hospital was where I belonged.

So, I think after that happened whenever I would get upset usually after losing a job or taking a leave w/o the structure of a job- I would sit and try to figure it out- and my sisters would take me to the hospital. Maybe it just wasn’t that they couldn’t tolerate my behavior. But, maybe also they wanted to be sure I was safe.

The time my mom told me I could no longer live in her house anymore- that was a time I was merely processing. I wasn’t in such a bad state as I had been in the past. It wasn’t a time after losing a job. It was just a time after a hospitalization and I was trying to figure it out. But, I was doing a lot of laying down. A lot of just sitting staring off into space.

I had lived w my mom on and off for several years before that while I was going to different rehab programs. And when I did live w my mom- it did not work out very well. I tried working from time to time. But, could never make a go of things.

It was after my mom made it clear I could not come back, saw the psychiatrist I mentioned earlier and joined a rehab facility that i started making gains. I developed supportive friends at the rehab, secured gainful employment and got my own place. My entire family even though most were young marrieds w children of their own- were there for me every step of the way. Except for a short stint in the hospital after I got married and another time about 10 yrs later- I have been fine since.
The time I moved in w my husband then boyfriend that again was a time I was having difficulty on a job. One I ended up quitting. My husband was right there for me. He listened to every thing I had to say.
My boss at the time listened to me too!!
So, at the time I moved in w him instead of ending up in the hospital I ended up moving in w my boyfriend. Instead of being in the hospital I spent my time packing up my apartment; I moved in 3 weeks after I quit. Since my husband worked at the same company I did he knew the people so that made managing my upset easier. If I only had someone to listen when I took other leaves of absences or quit other jobs? I was fortunate to have my husband. In another month I was working a new job.

My husband allows me the ability to process and sometimes that means staring off into space if necessary. Many times I sit just trying to figure things out. He watches television. It has been a good partnership if not for this reason alone. We give each other space.

Yes. He does not put me first when it comes to his family and friends. And we did not have children. Will we get a dog-? that unconditional love would be great- getting a dog remains to be seen.

It is nice knowing I have food and shelter. I really don’t think there is any chance of my husband kicking me out of the house.

I work part time and that is a good feeling. My husband insists that at 71 I do not have to work. But, after trying to work times in the past w/o success and having had finally found a decent paying job ( part time abt 10 to 20 hrs /month ). One I like and one wherein I don’t bother anyone-I work. The job gives me a sense of pride.

After a recent visit to my parish office in an effort to obtain a Mass card for my sister who has pancreatic cancer, I started talking w the parish secretary. I told her my husband and I have been parishioners for going on 15 years. Somehow it came up that my husband and I were not married in the Church. She talked of how important it would be for my husband and I to have a church wedding. She said in the eyes of God we are not married.

I told her my brother in law married us. That he was judge in the adjoining county. It was a very family ceremony when we got married. The parish secretary highly encouraged my husband and I have a church wedding. Upon leaving I got very excited!! I am going to be married- in the Church!!

Where I go from here- I think I will marry my husband again - but this time in the Church. Not so fast.. I would like some ground rules between me and my husband. But, I realize the likelihood of my husband putting me first just does not have the greatest odds. Maybe in time, in time. One can hope.

2 people are talking about this
Community Voices

# day to day events 8-14-22 and days prior
# anxiety # schizophrenia

As far as my mom was concerned - before I would be hospitalized it went something like this: I would take a downward spiral while at work, I would go to work upset day in and day out until I just couldn’t go anymore. I would then take a leave of absence. Either I was living at my parents home or in an apartment. I would get more and more paranoid w/o the structure of a job & being home w/o work - how could I pay my rent? how was I going to pay my bills? etc.. what happened at work? What did I say? What were the other people ( at work) trying to do? How could I have taken another leave? and I would just sit and think. Trying to figure out what happened and why and what was I going to do now. Usually I felt like a coward because I couldn’t handle my job, yet, again . I felt afraid to face anyone.

I would do all this processing. I would sit in the same chair, upset, paranoid , while this was going on- my family could just not tolerate my behavior.

In addition, one time after I had taken a leave of absence from my job. I was feeling quite paranoid and I was at one of my sister’s apartments’. She insisted all I needed was rest. So, she and her husband left me to myself in an adjoining room. While in that room I knew my family was going to put me in the hospital again and I hated it. Dreaded it. I tried to hurt myself. That was when my sister took me to the hospital. And at that time a hospital was where I belonged.

So, I think after that happened whenever I would get upset usually after losing a job or taking a leave w/o the structure of a job- I would sit and try to figure it out- and my sisters would take me to the hospital. Maybe it just wasn’t that they couldn’t tolerate my behavior. But, maybe also they wanted to be sure I was safe.

The time my mom told me I could no longer live in her house anymore- that was a time I was merely processing. I wasn’t in such a bad state as I had been in the past. It wasn’t a time after losing a job. It was just a time after a hospitalization and I was trying to figure it out. But, I was doing a lot of laying down. A lot of just sitting staring off into space.

I had lived w my mom on and off for several years before that while I was going to different rehab programs. And when I did live w my mom- it did not work out very well. I tried working from time to time. But, could never make a go of things.

It was after my mom made it clear I could not come back, saw the psychiatrist I mentioned earlier and joined a rehab facility that i started making gains. I developed supportive friends at the rehab, secured gainful employment and got my own place. My entire family even though most were young marrieds w children of their own- were there for me every step of the way. Except for a short stint in the hospital after I got married and another time about 10 yrs later- I have been fine since.
The time I moved in w my husband then boyfriend that again was a time I was having difficulty on a job. One I ended up quitting. My husband was right there for me. He listened to every thing I had to say.
My boss at the time listened to me too!!
So, at the time I moved in w him instead of ending up in the hospital I ended up moving in w my boyfriend. Instead of being in the hospital I spent my time packing up my apartment; I moved in 3 weeks after I quit. Since my husband worked at the same company I did he knew the people so that made managing my upset easier. If I only had someone to listen when I took other leaves of absences or quit other jobs? I was fortunate to have my husband. In another month I was working a new job.

My husband allows me the ability to process and sometimes that means staring off into space if necessary. Many times I sit just trying to figure things out. He watches television. It has been a good partnership if not for this reason alone. We give each other space.

Yes. He does not put me first when it comes to his family and friends. And we did not have children. Will we get a dog-? that unconditional love would be great- getting a dog remains to be seen.

It is nice knowing I have food and shelter. I really don’t think there is any chance of my husband kicking me out of the house.

I work part time and that is a good feeling. My husband insists that at 71 I do not have to work. But, after trying to work times in the past w/o success and having had finally found a decent paying job ( part time abt 10 to 20 hrs /month ). One I like and one wherein I don’t bother anyone-I work. The job gives me a sense of pride.

After a recent visit to my parish office in an effort to obtain a Mass card for my sister who has pancreatic cancer, I started talking w the parish secretary. I told her my husband and I have been parishioners for going on 15 years. Somehow it came up that my husband and I were not married in the Church. She talked of how important it would be for my husband and I to have a church wedding. She said in the eyes of God we are not married.

I told her my brother in law married us. That he was judge in the adjoining county. It was a very family ceremony when we got married. The parish secretary highly encouraged my husband and I have a church wedding. Upon leaving I got very excited!! I am going to be married- in the Church!!

Where I go from here- I think I will marry my husband again - but this time in the Church. Not so fast.. I would like some ground rules between me and my husband. But, I realize the likelihood of my husband putting me first just does not have the greatest odds. Maybe in time, in time. One can hope.

2 people are talking about this
Community Voices

# day to day events 8-13-22 and days prior # anxiety # schizophrenia- per 2 drs.

In my blog ( don’t recall which one- did not look it up- np if someone asks me to do so- I will oblige.). I stated my mother contacted one of my siblings to take me to the hospital because she couldn’t handle me sitting and laying down while I processed my prior hospitalization (s). It had been a period of abt 3 wks. Essentially my mom kicked me out of her house.

Well, in the end - I think maybe you would say it worked out. I never returned to live at my mom’s house after that- would come only for visits.

From the hospital I was placed in a rehab environment. The place was full of cockroaches, but I had food and shelter. After a short stint ( maybe a few wks, months - I don’t recall) there I was able to move to my own apartment ( in a rebab bldg. ) The apartment was nice I remember. My mom visited and was supportive. She was there for me every step of the way and continued to do so until I eventually moved into my own apartment. In my own apartment my mom continued to help me while I worked part time until I eventually worked full time abt 6 mos later.

My mom never understood my illness ( at the time the drs said I had schizophrenia) I felt she never took the time to understand. But, she was there to drive me anywhere I needed to go. Took an active part in the rehab process including family therapy. ( to these sessions my mom who was up in age had to endure heavy city traffic and find spots to park- w no one to help her) . But, my mom always came to every session.

I , at times, would find fault w my mom. I had serious anger issues w her. But, as I got older I realized she was fighting off her own depression. My dad had died young - 66- now that I am 71- I see that as young. And my dad had been sick for 16 yrs prior. My mom had to manage her 6 kids( though we were grown) , and numerous grandchildren, pretty much by herself. In that group were 2 devastating divorces as well as my illness.

My mom allowed one of my other sisters and her 2 preschool children to live w her after one of the divorces. My sister’s x husband left her next to nothing. My sister lived w my mom until she could afford her own place. My sister eventually purchased a house. My sister lived w my mom for 5 yrs.

Though sometimes I still fight in my mind w what could have been different- I realize that my mom kicking me out of her house was one of the best things that she could have done. Most likey - the best.

There were other times my mom would ask my sisters to put me in a the hospital- other times when I was only just processing- the time my mom kicked me out of her house wasnt I the only time. My family must have felt the hospital was best. I would say now they did not know any better as well as they could not tolerate ( unlike my husband) any different.
Each hospitalization was horrible for me. I am very sensitive - each hospitalization- words cannot express how I felt when I was hospitalized, but to say- worse than horrible- I hated it, dreaded it and never wanted to go back.

But, I survived- I made decisions accordingly. I prevailed. One such time when I felt I was on the brink of being hospitalized- I instead moved in w my husband who was my then boyfriend. I think today it turned out a good decision.

My mom did the best she could. If I had had my own children and had a son/ daughter w an illness I question if I could have managed as well.

My mom went on to move into a retirement community herself as she aged. ( 87) is She realized she could not live in her home (even though she had downsized) w/o bothering her children, grandchildren. She seemed to be happy in her retirement home as she made friends & partook in variou activities the retirement home had to offer its residents. My mom seemingly thrived. It looked to me my mom was happy. She was taking care of herself- she was independent.

My mom was in a retirement home for over 14 1/2 yrs. Though the retirement home she lived in was quite costly and one my husband and I could not ( ever) afford- my mom did well. I only hope I could be so selfless. I don’t know that I could.

My mom had her kids grandchildren and great grandchildren visited her more than frequently. Many times my mom would turn us down as we would request a time for a visit. She would have activities/ commitments @ the retirement home that she had plans to attend. I know in my moms own way she would do this -( turn us down) as an effort that her stay at the retirement home would prove a success for her- and also at the same time -to let us know she was fine and that we should instead focus on our own needs. My mom wanted us to find success in every way too.

While my mom was in the retirement home that was when she took the most time w me. I was confused and upset. I had just come from a stay in a nursing home. Maybe the reason my mom could take the time for me then was because now- now that my mom was in a retirement community- safe and independent- now she maybe she finally felt her own needs have been met and she could safely address, focus & listen to mine. It wasn’t long before I went on my way.

Before long I was able to take care of her. Bring her dinners/ lunches my husband and I had cooked for her at my home. Bring her supplies as she could no longer get hers. Act as a caregiver when my mom’s was not on duty. I felt so proud I had started working again and I could pay for my mom’s supplies. When I would walk into the doorway of her apartment and see her perched on her chair leaning over w her sweet cherrie hello calling my name- though I don’t know heaven- I am certain each time I got a slice of it. It was amazing. My mom lived to be over 101 1/2 years young. I miss her so!!

If any one thing I learned from my mom it was the mantra that above all else we must see to it that we take care of ourselves.

2 people are talking about this
Community Voices

# day to day events 8-13-22 and days prior # anxiety # schizophrenia- per 2 drs.

In my blog ( don’t recall which one- did not look it up- np if someone asks me to do so- I will oblige.). I stated my mother contacted one of my siblings to take me to the hospital because she couldn’t handle me sitting and laying down while I processed my prior hospitalization (s). It had been a period of abt 3 wks. Essentially my mom kicked me out of her house.

Well, in the end - I think maybe you would say it worked out. I never returned to live at my mom’s house after that- would come only for visits.

From the hospital I was placed in a rehab environment. The place was full of cockroaches, but I had food and shelter. After a short stint ( maybe a few wks, months - I don’t recall) there I was able to move to my own apartment ( in a rebab bldg. ) The apartment was nice I remember. My mom visited and was supportive. She was there for me every step of the way and continued to do so until I eventually moved into my own apartment. In my own apartment my mom continued to help me while I worked part time until I eventually worked full time abt 6 mos later.

My mom never understood my illness ( at the time the drs said I had schizophrenia) I felt she never took the time to understand. But, she was there to drive me anywhere I needed to go. Took an active part in the rehab process including family therapy. ( to these sessions my mom who was up in age had to endure heavy city traffic and find spots to park- w no one to help her) . But, my mom always came to every session.

I , at times, would find fault w my mom. I had serious anger issues w her. But, as I got older I realized she was fighting off her own depression. My dad had died young - 66- now that I am 71- I see that as young. And my dad had been sick for 16 yrs prior. My mom had to manage her 6 kids( though we were grown) , and numerous grandchildren, pretty much by herself. In that group were 2 devastating divorces as well as my illness.

My mom allowed one of my other sisters and her 2 preschool children to live w her after one of the divorces. My sister’s x husband left her next to nothing. My sister lived w my mom until she could afford her own place. My sister eventually purchased a house. My sister lived w my mom for 5 yrs.

Though sometimes I still fight in my mind w what could have been different- I realize that my mom kicking me out of her house was one of the best things that she could have done. Most likey - the best.

There were other times my mom would ask my sisters to put me in a the hospital- other times when I was only just processing- the time my mom kicked me out of her house wasnt I the only time. My family must have felt the hospital was best. I would say now they did not know any better as well as they could not tolerate ( unlike my husband) any different.
Each hospitalization was horrible for me. I am very sensitive - each hospitalization- words cannot express how I felt when I was hospitalized, but to say- worse than horrible- I hated it, dreaded it and never wanted to go back.

But, I survived- I made decisions accordingly. I prevailed. One such time when I felt I was on the brink of being hospitalized- I instead moved in w my husband who was my then boyfriend. I think today it turned out a good decision.

My mom did the best she could. If I had had my own children and had a son/ daughter w an illness I question if I could have managed as well.

My mom went on to move into a retirement community herself as she aged. ( 87) is She realized she could not live in her home (even though she had downsized) w/o bothering her children, grandchildren. She seemed to be happy in her retirement home as she made friends & partook in variou activities the retirement home had to offer its residents. My mom seemingly thrived. It looked to me my mom was happy. She was taking care of herself- she was independent.

My mom was in a retirement home for over 14 1/2 yrs. Though the retirement home she lived in was quite costly and one my husband and I could not ( ever) afford- my mom did well. I only hope I could be so selfless. I don’t know that I could.

My mom had her kids grandchildren and great grandchildren visited her more than frequently. Many times my mom would turn us down as we would request a time for a visit. She would have activities/ commitments @ the retirement home that she had plans to attend. I know in my moms own way she would do this -( turn us down) as an effort that her stay at the retirement home would prove a success for her- and also at the same time -to let us know she was fine and that we should instead focus on our own needs. My mom wanted us to find success in every way too.

While my mom was in the retirement home that was when she took the most time w me. I was confused and upset. I had just come from a stay in a nursing home. Maybe the reason my mom could take the time for me then was because now- now that my mom was in a retirement community- safe and independent- now she maybe she finally felt her own needs have been met and she could safely address, focus & listen to mine. It wasn’t long before I went on my way.

Before long I was able to take care of her. Bring her dinners/ lunches my husband and I had cooked for her at my home. Bring her supplies as she could no longer get hers. Act as a caregiver when my mom’s was not on duty. I felt so proud I had started working again and I could pay for my mom’s supplies. When I would walk into the doorway of her apartment and see her perched on her chair leaning over w her sweet cherrie hello calling my name- though I don’t know heaven- I am certain each time I got a slice of it. It was amazing. My mom lived to be over 101 1/2 years young. I miss her so!!

If any one thing I learned from my mom it was the mantra that above all else we must see to it that we take care of ourselves.

2 people are talking about this
Community Voices

How do I accept a schizoaffective diagnosis?

I feel like the world is dictating what I should believe in and without my thoughts being considered. In this case I'm made to accept this diagnosis after years of differing diagnoses which I did speak up about; I feel I can't say anymore because a small part of me does believe it. #Psychosis #SchizoaffectiveDisorder #Schizophrenia

6 people are talking about this
Community Voices

How do I accept a schizoaffective diagnosis?

I feel like the world is dictating what I should believe in and without my thoughts being considered. In this case I'm made to accept this diagnosis after years of differing diagnoses which I did speak up about; I feel I can't say anymore because a small part of me does believe it. #Psychosis #SchizoaffectiveDisorder #Schizophrenia

6 people are talking about this
Community Voices

How do I accept a schizoaffective diagnosis?

I feel like the world is dictating what I should believe in and without my thoughts being considered. In this case I'm made to accept this diagnosis after years of differing diagnoses which I did speak up about; I feel I can't say anymore because a small part of me does believe it. #Psychosis #SchizoaffectiveDisorder #Schizophrenia

6 people are talking about this