So that therapist appointment I was supposed to have last week? Yeah, that didn’t happen, ah ha ha ha! Ha. Earlier in the week I got a bill from the therapist’s office letting me know there was a balance on my account with them, for the massive number of one whole visit so far. So I called my insurance provider, who explained that because I didn’t meet my deductible, they weren’t covering the bill. I’m not quite sure I understand how that works—it sounds like the bigger the bill, the more likely they are to cover it, but that doesn’t make sense—but being I didn’t want to go into this already owing on a bill, and quite possibly amassing an even bigger balance, in addition to what I’d already be paying for co-pays, not to mention what I already put out each month for the insurance itself, I just canceled the appointment.
Back at square one. I’m not surprised, really. As grateful as I was to get a break on health insurance, I didn’t really expect it to be a magic bullet cure. Health insurance companies don’t make money by paying for people’s medical treatment, they make money by not paying for them. I haven’t decided yet when or if I will try again. I don’t want to go through the whole rigmarole of finding another therapist, doing an intake, waiting to get an appointment, and then finding out later that that bill wasn’t paid either. All I can do is hope that I don’t run into the same problem if I need treatment for, say, an actual physical issue. It kinda makes you wonder what I’m actually paying for here, y’know?
The timing of this is interesting, because I feel like I’m on an upswing mood-wise. That’s not to say I no longer need therapy, because I definitely do, if nothing else than to learn how to keep things from getting as bad as they did not too long ago. But I can say with confidence that I’m no longer in what could be described as a “crisis situation.” I’m coming out the other side, as it were, slowly, but slowly is better than not at all. There is definite improvement, and I realize I’m jinxing myself just by writing that, but fuck it. After months of feeling like there was a giant black snake wrapped around me squeezing as hard as it could, it feels good to be able to finally get some air back in my lungs.
So, I guess we’ll just see what happens for now. I feel excited about new projects, which is great and exhilarating, though I still, still lack that final push necessary to start actually working on them. It’s like I’m waiting for some kind of cosmic sign, a big hand coming down from the sky and doing that countdown, like you see people do right before a TV show starts filming. Burying myself in work I actually want to do would almost definitely be the best thing for me right now. If I’m going to continue just going about this as my own agent, then I have to acknowledge what’s healthiest for me and actually do it.