My Life Sucks - Big Time … !

I worked a physically demanding job, for 20 yrs, half of it in pain. Lost my health, my job and my family.
Doctors never x-rayed me. Finally, when I could no longer raise my legs more than a few inches, I went to a specialist. I had bad hips, needed a new right one asap, the other in 1-10. I had no help, so stayed in a nursing home afterwards and fended for myself afterwards, when no one offered me any help w/tasks at home. When my 12 week Government Family Medical Leave ended, I tried to go back to work. The first task wasinspecting another Huge Truck that salts interstate highways, w/underneath snow plow. I had to climb up the ladders, on both sides quite a few times, checking on arrival for damages, it’s equipment against the order, fueling and parking. It was so painful, knew I could never do my job again. For 2 weeks co-workers tried to cover for me, but to no end. The 3rd. Monday I told them the truth.
I was “Let go”.
I told my boss, I could not go home; didn’t know what I would do; sat in the parking lot trying to slit my own throat, but didn’t, as skin is a lot thicker than it looks in the movies, would have taken a major effort on my part to do it correctly and not have someone there save me in time. I stayed until one of my last co-workers told me to go home, it would be alright. I did, it wasn’t.
The gloom I felt was overwhelming, knowing I would never work or be around people again. I prepared to die, took all kinds of medications given to me for pain and to help me sleep, called my boss’s voice mail, told him, “I told you I couldn’t go home, I did it.”, laid down on my bed to die on the eve of Aug.3rd., 2009.
I awoke, out of coma, remember saying, “Oh, no…I’m alive.” I don’t remember the actual hospital experiences, as I was in and out of my coma. My family was told I would need to be on a machine the rest of my life. But, later I was told I took enough pills to kill 2 horses, but survived. The mandadory stay at a mental ward, 70 miles away, was the only pleasant experience I have had since I killed myself. Being, at least I didn’t have to eat microwaved canned food and was around interesting people. The doctors said I was the only one there that made a fatal attempt, so kept me there longer; saw a few people come and go. They finally let me leave, whereby I sat on my porch crying that nothing had changed, so tried to find a passer-by to kill me. The police took me to a hospital, a few blocks away. I was released the same night.
Two days later I got a call from my first roommate at the Owosso, Mi. metal home. She was an alcholic, anorexic, one-time Nurse whose husband pressured her to stay thin. She was the young enough to be my child. I drove 67 miles to bring her to my home, thinking it would be good for the both of us. After a week, when she hadn’t yet showered, I told her after i was through, she HAD TO take one too. When I came out, she had stolen the beer I had bought her to help her withdraw and my CAR. FYI, if you aren’t rich, the police do not search, if they do find it because it is abandoned, you must travel and pay to get it back.
Later, doctors found I also had spine damage, probably from falling on my job a lot over the years. There was nothing they could do for me, just take Methadone and Vicodin, but you can’t drive. Argh.
So, for the next couple years, I eat Amazon.com drink, snacks and food I can afford, because I cannot stand long enough to shop. No one in my Family (I have 7 brothers/sisters, a lot of nieces and nephews) has ever helped me, knowing I cannot cook or clean and have only been able to find someone to help me do one load of laundry, almost two years ago, so I am forced to be naked, in my house alone all the time, in order to reserve the freshness of the few articles that are not too stained to wear.
I haven’t washed dishes, since before my hip surgery, cleaned my house that is full of the Amazon boxes or had any visitors…even the people I worked with for twenty years have not called to ask how I am. I used to donate to their needs…it really hurts.
Before my hip surgery, my basement started flooding. I had it snaked by two machines from a YellowBook company. They told me the sewage drain under my basement floor was corroded, it’s opening a bit larger than the size of a quarter. So, I stopped flushing toilet paper, knowing my job was in jeopardy, could not afford 30 grand to dig my basement floor up, replace sewage pipes, etc and re-cement it.
Then last my basement began flooding worse. It caused my New hot water heater to go out. In my conditon, it was difficult, but I managed to get it re-lit. Then, a week later, it flooded again amd could not get it re-lit. From research online, I found it to be trashed. I cannot get a new one installed again for a grand, as the same thing would happen, so why bother???
Now, if I want to take a bath, I can’t…it’s a lot of physical labor; getting up and down and up and down, carrying and boiling enough hot water to fill a tub. Taking a cold shower is not like on T.V…it is worse than torture, will not take one, was not able to suffer more than washing my hair in cold water. So, I only bathed when I had doctors appointments, once a month, as I never saw anyone being forced to be a hermit, as it was.
Last Sept. I failed a drug test for Marijuana, even though I had passed all tests prior. I began having a small pipefull whenever I felt like killing myself again, because I wanted to stay alive for the people I felt loved me.
I told the doctors that and that it made me feel a bit better physically. They are driven by buraucracy, told me I wasn’t allowed to use an illegal drug when they were prescribing me Methadone and Norco, that I signed an agreement not to. I told them I signed whatever they gave me, did not read it, was in pain and was sorry, but that I could not give up the only thing that helped me.
so, I APPLIED FO R A LEGAL MEDICAL MARIJUANA LICENSE, but having it still wasn’t good enough. Now, what little cleaning I did before, is not existent, because, I was pissed at bureaucracy, withdrew off their harsh drugs that constipated me, in favor of trying the Legal herbal way. However, when I am stoned on vaporized marijuana (smoking it doesn’t work on my pain) I am relatively useless and when I am not, I cannot do anything physical, as it hurts too much…a “CATCH 22″ for me.
What makes me feel I will not live more than a few useless days is that recently I found that the relatives I helped sending money, gifts, food, etc. to (all my spare money), (when I don’t even have any hot water and my teeth are broken, I need dentisry work done), in order to help them, litterally dumped/disowned me when they found I have no more to give to them.
Now I am on SSDI, eating canned food, living in filth, with no one to talk to, no one who loves me…a disabled, desparaged Hermit. The other relatives who do not need money, do not need me. I have cried for three years, am tired of my eyes constantly burning and having no joy in my life.
IF THERE IS ONE OF YOU OUT THERE THAT DOES NOT AGREE I HAVE GREAT INCENTIVE TO KILL MYSELF RIGHT THIS TIME, LET ME KNOW…I have a sure way to do it this time, the first time was thought to be surefire, but I hadn’t factored in the toughness of my charachter, mind and body. I wanted to make a go of it before, just in order not to hurt the ones who I thought loved me. But now I have no one, don’t go to doctors anymore, so don’t bathe, depressed and worse.
Lora Satterlee…oh, this is the short version, I could write a book, but won’t be around long enough, hopefully I will not be able to live anymore in this hell-hole, disabled, broke and alone.
Oh, Also…the only best friend I had left killed herself a few months before my life got bad and this story starts.