Today I went to apply for food benefits. Best Friend and Aunt P went with me, which helped a lot. They helped me fill out some of the forms too, because I wasn’t sure what to write down at times. It took me a long time to get through the forms because I was dissociating. I had to read questions like 10 times before I even understood what they were saying. And sometimes I would just stare at the form and I’d go blank and just feel scared and fuzzy and floaty.
I’m terrified of being rejected. Also, the last time I tried to get help from a government agency (Vocational Rehabilitation) it was a horrible experience. The lady interviewing me was awful, and invalidating, and arrogant and condescending. To give you an idea, this is one of the worst things she did: some time after I told her I have PTSD due to being abused by my mom, the lady kept obsessing over some little detail thinking I might have had a developmental disorder and then INSISTED on calling my mother to ask her about when I was a kid. Yeah. And I let her cause she kept badgering me and I felt like I had no choice and then I had to sit there while she was on the phone with my mother.
Anyway, then I had to wait in line for forever to turn in the paperwork. I was shaking- but I don’t know how much of that was the anxiety as it was I didn’t eat anything but a Snickers bar all day- and still anxious and panicky. Then I finally got called to the front and the guy helping me was this much older Spanish gentlemen. He sounded and dressed exactly like my grandpa. There goes my ability to focus and be coherent. I hadn’t been triggered by a Spanish accent since moving out here. Most people who are Spanish out here are Mexican, and Mexican accents don’t trigger me. My family was Puerto Rican. I grew up with that accent. I can recognize it and when I do I get triggered. At least it wasn’t an older woman. If it had been, I think I might have had a panic attack or passed out. I had an ok relationship with my grandpa. But my grandmother was an abusive NPD/BPD nasty old bitch. She was horrible. I always hated her…
But yeah, but this old dude is of course kinda slower at using the computer and so it took forever. I can’t even remember half of what happened because I kept going blank. In the though he gave me the food stamps card and explained once the paperwork processes I can use my card. They used to do a interview thing but now they don’t do that anymore. Thank goodness. I don’t think I’d have made it through that without having a panic attack or dissociating totally.
We left and I felt like I was going to pass out. I curled up in the car and was just so relieved it was over with.
This helps SO much. Now I have help buying food, which was a huge part of what was draining what little money I have left. Now I’ll be able to afford to keep paying rent and for therapy.
defying ptsd 