took my husband for an intake meeting at the county mh office today

[fizzgig]

the intake specialist is one i've met with before, crusty older woman I FUCKING LOVE. afterwards i told him i'm glad we got her but he said he didn't like her and, of course, got pissed when i asked him why. he said he doesn't have to explain himself to me, but i know it's because she asked him questions and challenged him, which is a cardinal sin to him.

nevermind that, though, he's trying.

we go back next week so they can tell us we make too much money to qualify for any type of assistance. we'll find someone with a sliding scale, the money is not the issue for me, i want my husband to be healthy. i am pretty pissed, though, that we fall through the cracks. why gross income - rather than net with rent/mortgage, utilities, student loan payments, etc, factored in - is the deciding factor is beyond me. i should just be happy that there are some meager resources available to us, right?

couple's counselling will come a few months down the road. my insurance will cover too few visits at too high a cost, but i'll make it happen.

i wound up drinking more than was necessary tonight, not a great coping mechanism, but one i could manage. i'm pruney from crying in the shower and walking to the liquor store let me blow off some energy.

tomorrow brings my therapist and then dinner and the theatre with my family and assorted other people. my husband was supposed to come, but he told me today he doesn't want to come. part of me says fuck it, let the crabs stay home. the other part hurts.

one day at a time, yes?

edit: a song that reminds me of my safe place. i'd be lost without weezer.