New Letter.

I got a new letter from the state yesterday. They rejected my application for a second six months of Suboxone treatment. I’m not freaking out though…not yet anyway.

But still, could the fucking figure it out already? Jesus.

Unmoored.

Since Little C’s been away, I feel a little lost. Her presence gives a shape to my day, and without her here I’m devolving into aimlessness.

Seriously, I’m not sure what’s up with me this week. My sanest guess is that I overdid it over the Solstice weekend, and now I’m suffering. I have to say it was worth it, for the pure joy of the day we spent at the park and the beautiful walk around the city, plus J and I went dancing that night for the first time in ages.

Now I’m recooping and trying hard not to get down on myself for lazing about and not accomplishing much. Hopefully I’ll be back in the game tomorrow and can accomplish some of the things I wanted to get done this week. For now, I’ve got to prioritize my physical and mental health.

On the positive side, I got myself some cute new clothes yesterday for my upcoming trip to Florida. And Little Cappie’s birthday is coming up, so I guess I’ve got some external motivation to get the house in shape right there, huh?

I feel like I’m in a strange place right now. I feel like I’ve come through the fire in a way, and gotten my hard-won little bit of stability. Now I need to move toward steering my life in the direction I want it to go, which is scary since I’ve spent the last however many years just reacting to stuff and trying to keep my head above water.

Also, now that I don’t have the immediate, huge, pressing concern of drug abuse fucking up my life, I’m finding that there’s a bunch of other shit wrong with me that I really need to deal with. I’ve made a good start on the addiction thing, and even the physical health bit has improved since I’ve been exercising. But my spiritual life is crying for attention, and I’ve got a messed-up relationship with food, I’m not sure how to stay motivated in my life, and lately I’ve tip-toed up to a big-ass well of fear that seems to be at the center of all of it.

And it’s summer. I was really looking forward to fucking off and enjoying life – so why am I now feeling called to resume the excavation?

I’ve got some stuff to think about.

Awesomely beautiful day!

J, Little C and I had a wonderful time at the Solstice Parade today. You can read all about it at The Second Road – there’s even a picture to make you super jealous!

Happy Solstice everyone, and may we all have a lovely summer – goddess knows I think we deserve it.

Early in the morning in the middle of the night

All I have is my heart, and this question. There is no book to go to, no website to look up. Oracles to consult, advice to be given.

Something is amiss, a piece is missing and I worry at it sometimes, late at night when I should be asleep.

Why was I drawn to what would hurt me? Did someone hurt me and I can’t remember? I feel like that’s dangerous territory – memory is so programmable.

I felt so worthless. So unwanted, unlovable. I remember looking into the mirror, staring into my own brown eyes wondering what was wrong with me, what was wrong with me?

Where did that hurt come from? Maybe I’m not ready yet, to know.

Or is there no answer?

I don’t know. I really don’t know.

I was precocious – in more than one way.

the root, the root

to find the root

go back, back in memory – but it’s not coherent. Impressions overlaid with stories, the competing narratives of siblings, parents, self.

A man? A doctor? A pastor? A teacher? A friend? A relative?

Or is that too neat? Am I just looking for the rotten beam in my foundations, like I could just rip it out and replace it and all will be well…

suddenly, I would make sense.

It fits – the reason, it fits my symptoms.

but perhaps I was just precocious. A sensualist in a puritan family.

Dark things seemed exciting. I read Go Ask Alice and thought her life seemed glamorous. I didn’t get it.

I took my best friend’s bathing suit off…I was poking her nipple, I think, when her mom looked out the window and saw us. She sent me home, with no other words. We were playing in the pool, we never spoke of it again. How old were we? Six?

That’s just normal kid stuff, right?

That wasn’t the only time, though, or the only friend…

what was up with me? Curious? or was something Wrong?

I used to lay in bed at night. A little girl’s bed, small and narrow, with dark blue sheets printed with roses – fat leafy blooms, intertwining stems. Some nights I pretended I had leukemia, and I was dying. Everyone came to see me, to visit me and talk. My head was bald and I didn’t want to die, but I was very brave.

Other nights, other diseases. I was always good and brave, and dying. Sometimes, in my imagination, Bo Duke from The Dukes of Hazzard* would sit by my bed and hold my hand, and I would look into his soulful blue eyes and I knew he loved me. Too bad I would die before ever being kissed.

*you can feel free to laugh at that, I know I do.

I really need to get to bed.

Sigh, relief…

My doctor said that the letter I got (the one I was not freaking out about in my last post) was just informing me that the first six months of my treatment were up, and that he would still apply for a second six months. He seems confident that I’ll get the extention, and he’s done this a lot, so I’m not going to worry about it.

Little Cappie had her first dance recital tonight – holy cuteness overload! Her class, pre-modern dance, performed first. They were little monkeys and their dance was a take on the classic monkeys-jumping-on-the-bed story. Freakin’ adorable. I was a class chaperone, which meant I got to take the class out to the audience after they were done performing and sit with them through the rest of the show. Monkeys, indeed! Actually, J said that from across the audience they looked like a bunch of prairie dogs, heads popping up and down as they got up and down in and out of their seats all through the show.

Getting ready for dress rehearsal and the show today was more stressful than I thought it would be. I wasn’t feeling well and I’m stressed about my final exam tomorrow, and time seemed to be slipping away. It’s been miserable weather here in the PNW, and all I wanted was to curl up in bed with my new book. I had a few moments of almost spinning out of control, but me and J managed to pull together and work as a team. Now I’m glad that I put the effort in – it was worth it when I saw my little girl’s smiling face as she came off stage tonight. We even managed to get a new charger for the video camera (something we’ve been putting off for, oh, 4 years) so we could record the event for the East Coast branch of the family.

In other news, I have a new post about dealing with pain in recovery up at Suboxone Blog. I do hope you click over and read it, and if you do read it I hope you enjoy it! Maybe you’ll even find something useful there, who knows?

Now I have to go study for my final exam. There’s something to be greatful for – Logic will be out of my life after tomorrow! Woot!

Goodnight, y’all, and sweet dreams.

Lacing up my hoop-jumping shoes.

I got a letter from the state today, informing me that they will cease paying for my Suboxone treatment as of June 19, 2008.

Well, at least they gave me a sufficent amount of time to taper off. (Yes  that’s sarcasm.)

The letter said that they’d received my doctor’s request to extend my treatment for another six months. According to they who make the rules, this is not a medically appropriate usage of Suboxone, so I am SOL.

There is an appeal process I can go through, but if I want to continue my treatment while they consider my appeal then I MUST appeal within ten days of the date on the letter. The letter I got was dated May 27, 2008 – which means I would have to have appealed by yesterday. But wait! The postage-meter stamp on the envelope the letter came in was dated June 4, 2008 (that’s right, a week after the letter was dated) and I didn’t even get the thing until today (June 7).

I knew going into this treatment program that my insurance, which is medicaid and so is paid by the state, would only cover my treatment for six months. My doctor, who deals with a lot of peeps like me told me that they always grant an extent ion for a second six months and so we’ve been working from that assumption. We agreed together that I would use the second six months of my treatment to taper off of Suboxone because he thinks that a slow taper with plenty of time to stabilize between reductions leads to a better chance of success.

Right now, I’m just hoping that this is a formality, and that they categorically deny all first requests for an extention. My doc seemed so sure that I would get the extention, we didn’t even discuss what would happen if I didn’t. The one doubt that’s eating at me is that last month my prescription was held up for about a week. I heard this was because the state had become aware that the majority of people who were getting Suboxone on Medicaid’s dime weren’t in therapy or treatment, which is not ok, and they’d decided to finally enforce that rule. Now I’m left to hope that they haven’t decided to be more strict about the six months rule.

It would make sense if they are cracking down; Suboxone is an expensive drug and these are hard times.

I’m not freaking out though. In fact, I feel strangely calm.  If they do cut me off on the 19th, it will suck because my next refill is due on the 20th, but I’ll be ok. If things turn out badly with the appeal, I’ll just borrow money to pay for my scripts until I can get safely tapered off. I’ve got a backup plan and an understanding doctor, so I’ll be allright. I just hope I don’t have to pencil “go through withdrawals” into my datebook anytime soon.

I do find it ironic though, that the state would want to cut me off of the one treatment that has stabilized me so much. I no longer take anxiety meds or the hideously expensive migraine medication that I used to take, and I’m at the doctor’s office far less than I was when I was using. And despite what they say about “evidence based” practices, I’ve read that the best outcomes for Suboxone treatment are people who use it long-term. But I long ago stopped expecting things to make sense, so I’m not suprised.

This is yet another opportunity to see how I’ve grown. If this had happened just a few months ago, I’d be freaking out right now. I’m learning to not make a big deal out of things until they become a big deal, and I’m starting to trust that I will be able to handle my life – even when it gets hard, and without turing to a chemical escape. I like this feeling of competence. I do believe it’s one of the rewards of the hard work I’ve been doing, and I intend to enjoy it.

Other than being put on notice by the medical beaurecrats, I had a lovely day today. Little C and I went to a birthday party in the park, and the rain even held off until the end of the day. A&J and I got a chance to catch up and the fresh air did me right. Now I need to buckle down and work on some Logic proofs – quiz Monday and Final Exam on Wednesday. Then I’m free for the summer, oh joy!