So I got lucky. Despite the collections notice, I've located the correct EOB, linked up the hospital, my insurance, and the collections agency, and they should be ironing out the charge (which should have been applied as an insurance discount). I've also realized this is possibly the most inept collection agency ever.

It turns out this was a claim from May of 2016. Yes, you read that right, 2016, two years ago. I vaguely remember getting a notice, calling the agency, assuring them that insurance would cover it but the claim just hadn't been processed yet, and I never heard from them again. So my alleged debt just sat on their books FOR TWO YEARS! Maybe you might want to follow up once a year or so?

I checked my credit score through Credit Karma and my annual credit report, though, and luckily it hasn't seemed to make a difference. I'm actually pleased at how well it went considering it could have been like my prior experiences, but who knows, maybe there are so many people being sent to collection for far larger debts than mine that it isn't the black mark it once was.

On another positive note, I made sure to get to Macy's Flower Show this week, which is always stunning, but this year I thought they did a particularly fabulous job with a fairy tale theme. To say it was magical is trite, but it really is something beyond the ordinary display you would find even at a botanical garden. It will be there until April 8th and if you're in NYC, I highly, highly recommend it!

It's life. Checking through my crappy insurance, then seeing a special note that I've been sent for collection somewhere for some charge that I have no idea where it came from except the hospital.

F*ck! Not again. I haven't even gotten a letter from whatever agency they used so it's time to call, find, and fight again. I guess it's good it's not my first rodeo. The first two times was from a hospital in MD. Twice. They removed me after the first time then sent it back to collection again while I was disputing the claims again since I had good insurance which should have covered what they weren't covering. After a year and a half it was resolved and removed from my credit history.

The third time was Verizon for a ridiculous amount of $70 or so dollars on my last NJ bill when the check was literally in the mail after I'd moved to NYC and closed the NJ account. I was a little harsher on the rep then, after post-move fatigue. Cleared again.

So here we are and the only reason I know is a small note at the bottom of another bill that I legit owe to them indicating there's a collection agency involved. I have great credit overall so this really pisses me off. Collection agencies are obligated by law to send an official notice if they become involved, so I should know about this already, conversely I'm glad I found out ahead of time so I can start to figure out what the hell happened.

I will start polite, but considering this is the fourth time in my life and getting older and crabbier when it comes to health insurance and knocking down my credit score, I will turn bitchy before I take a breath. If you're going to send me to collection please a) notify me ahead of time and b) make sure that the charges are accurate and not insurance rejection driven when not justified as per my policy.

When fighting collections, always bounce it back to the original biller. Figure out what the charge is for and if you have a case. Then call collections and make sure it's off their books. Finally check your credit score if possible to not lower it to ensure that all that should have happened actually did.

It's frustrating. It's draining. But it's necessary in this country and the collection companies can suck it. I will fight them.

It's strange. I've been exhausted from everything that's happened the past few months, but something has shifted. I had the Mirena IUD placed on Wednesday, and despite the bleeding and cramping that are still ongoing I feel...normal mentally. That hasn't happened since I was about eleven. No mood swings, less despair, simple acceptance of situations, and a desire to plan for the future. Was it really my hormones all this time?

I'm not writing off the need for sleep, healthy activities, friends to combat loneliness, but hell, maybe this is why sobriety didn't stick the first 45 times? Usually it was a descent into depression that sparked the relapse, and maybe this can help with that? I have a million questions with no concrete answer, but I'll work with this as it goes.

I'm trying to figure out what went so wrong in my head this time around. I still don't have any concrete answers although I have a few possible leads.

Self: anxiety and bodily pain returning with the past summer as my body adjusted to the gabapentin, depression swing, frustration and anger at AA and other programs meant to "help" with the process that just made me think that if this is the rest of my life I don't want it. I'm still struggling with all of the above minus the programs.

Family: implied pressure from parents and return to old dynamics of expecting robots to take my job and I need to start over when I was already starting over enough by quitting drinking. Sister insanity as per normal. Death of great-uncle. Factors have not materially improved.

I'm learning to distance myself as much as I can. I'm working hard in therapy and have shed quite a  few tears over my situation while trying to just let things go, even though one of my colleagues who I am now in charge of training is as gung-ho when I first started. I calm him down and tell him to move on. From there he's on his own.

I'm still dealing with physical consequences, although nothing dire yet, thank god. I know it's not too late to work this out; it's just an extremely hard puzzle where I only have a few pieces and I'm not sure some pieces haven't been permanently lost. Even if they are, and holes exist after the assembly of a new, functional self it would be a huge step forward.

Family relations will have to wait. You are told so many things about "recovery", one being that reparations must occur early and often, but for me it's a long process that has to start and stop depending on their circumstances as well as mine. I shouldn't be surprised, after years of abuse it doesn't stop immediately, but I might be getting closer to being tired of running the same dysfunctions.

My sleep has been oddly disordered for a very long time but lately it seems to be getting worse. Example A: I was asleep earlier, but at 5 am I'm awake after tossing and turning for a few hours prior. The silver lining is that it's Sunday so at least I don't have to pay the price of exhaustion hitting midday while I'm working.

Also oddly this week has been better than the ones preceding it. I went to see the Thomas Cole exhibit at the Met (fantastic, btw, if anyone in NYC wants to go), dealt with family without major friction and pleased them by planning the day to maximize their comfort. I avoided any conversations that would cause anger or friction.

Maybe that's why I was just exhausted when I returned home. There's always a sense of disappointment whenever I spend time with family doing NYC activities. I can navigate almost any subway line or find alternate routes with no notice. I can give a spectacular two hour tour of the Met's highlights without consulting the museum map. I know the Brooklyn Botanical Garden and New York Botanical Garden well, and can walk through Central Park or Prospect Park to show all of the highlights and some hidden beauties.

My family just follows me, and you would think that the tidbits I know about the history and random facts that I can impart would create the sense of wonder that I feel absorbing the historical significance of these places. But every time I feel that they only absorb the bare surface and trying to share what I know (which admittedly is nowhere near what the docents can illuminate) is inadequate.

It makes me feel like a poseur, which I suppose I am considering my lack of academic research in the history and full investigations into the exact timeline of each artifact.

I love spending time educating my family. Selfishly, the lack of appreciation for the education and planning for the process inordinately bothers me. I'm tired of it. I think from now on I'll just spend time by myself. I can't deal with the implied neglect anymore.

It's been a rough few weeks after the rough month and a half when I was sick, so 2018 has pretty much sucked. I've also been faced again with the reality of how what life I have left will go.

I did my taxes Wednesday night and found out that because of health and other automatic withholdings I'm making over $2,000 less this year than I was (counting the "raise" I got). I was told that the "tax cut" bill will net me exactly $0 next year as well so the trend will continue. I spend enough on annual deductibles and out of pocket costs that I can actually deduct a small portion of my health expenses, but will be even less next year thanks to the new bill.

However, I'm lucky that I have been saving since I started working when I was 14. It gives me a cushion to fall back on, but I also know there's a reason I haven't contributed to my ROTH since 2013. I don't trust the stock market, need liquid savings, and know I'll be losing ground monetarily unless I start eating rice & pasta as my staple foods. At my weight that is not the correct diet.

I'm so tired of doing what's viewed as the right thing. It has gotten me nowhere in life except exhausted, immuno-compromised, addicted to whatever will make that awareness of futility of life disappear, and feel stuck where I am in terms of any type of advancement potential. I know that I'm far from alone on this, but damn. I'm out of energy and unless a miracle happens things will continue the way they are.

I'm glad that my parents don't have to deal with this since they have solid pensions, medical benefits, and have managed 15 years of retirement so far with very few hiccups. I just wish I had faith that things will work out in at least a fraction of that success for me. And I wish they understood the paradigm shift that's happened where nothing is guaranteed any more. It's a roll with the punches world and all you can do is hope you don't end up with a TKO or worse, a KO.

Reboot 6,328. Time to try again.

Ok, I'm beyond burned out, to the extent that I've just taken the past two days to sleep since I can't keep going any more. Hell, I'm not sure I can make it tomorrow.

 I should have known this was coming, between the general abuse this job has given, my period arriving, and my colleague leaving, which I made myself be "normal" for.

But I'm angry and upset which for me is a toxic mix. The basics likely come from growing up with both of my parents being teachers. Every year we got two months and a few weeks in between to recover. Now the only time I get to recover is in the hospital. At this point I think that being fired might be a blessing in disguise. After 15 years of fighting I'm tired and ready to have an excuse.