I'm currently working here, but if this whole thing falls apart for whatever reason, I guess I'll just have to figure out my next move then.
@ Carol Barrett2, there isn't really much I can buy right now. I could technically pay off all my loans, but honestly, I'd end up homeless and without an address in the process.
I had that dream again recently—the one where I take my own life. In the dream, I swallowed a massive amount of pills and caused total chaos throughout the city. My mom was there, too.
Work hasn't been easy lately either; I'm out in the field, far from home, and I probably won't be back by Christmas. For now, I'm just taking it as it comes. Once things grind to a halt, we'll see what happens next...
Morgan Lewis said:Hey everyone! I was wondering about something, and maybe someone here can shed some light on it for me. Basically, does anyone know if there’s actually a difference in how well the original Zyprexe works compared to the generic Olandix? If anyone has gone through this or has any experience with it, I’d really appreciate the insight!
I did a little digging online, and since both are just olanzapine, they seem identical—even the delivery method is the same, using those orally disintegrating tablets. I haven't personally switched over to Olandix, but I've been taking Zyprexe for years now. There's also Vaira from Belup which is the same olanzapine, though it comes in standard tablets instead. In my own estimation, there shouldn't be much of a difference between Vaira and Zyprexe, let alone between Olandix and the original, unless we're just talking about what you pay at the pharmacy. I'm certainly no medical expert, so I can't offer a professional opinion, but that's just my take from a layperson's perspective...
Nicholas Bailey3 said:Thanks, man—don't disappear on us again.☕
Honestly, I actually asked for a permanent ban at one point—I can't even remember why anymore—yet here I am, still scrolling through everything, mostly just digging through that PDF and following this specific thread...
Emily Cook8 said:Hey, give us a heads-up once in a while so we actually know what's going on.
Well, I'm back again after being away for about a month. I've been working construction out on Maui. The work is actually decent, and we managed to negotiate a pretty good hourly rate, though there's a catch—I'm not officially on the payroll. Out of our four-man crew, only one guy is actually registered with the state; the rest of us aren't. To be honest, I think it might actually be for the best, because before you can get officially signed on, you have to pass a medical exam, and I already have a feeling that’s going to be a major hurdle for me.
It honestly feels like they won't let me work, and they won't let me live, either. I just can't sustain my life solely on medication. If I could just have a pension that allows me to live a normal life like some people do, I wouldn't dream of picking up a shovel or climbing a scaffold ever again.
Anyway, I don't want to bore everyone, but until I clear these loans—which should take another two and a half years—I am going to fight with everything I've got to keep working. And maybe even after that, too. I have no intention of settling for disability or social assistance; I am capable of working and I truly want to work, which is something I've proven many times over.
It’s been about a month since I originally requested a permanent ban, but I find myself still scrolling through Reddit quite regularly. If I ever feel the urge to jump into a discussion or share a thought, I’d really appreciate it if my account could be unbanned. Thanks so much!
I’m still a little confused about how she managed all those loans; she was paying $280 every single month. That amount is way higher than the one-third limit the law usually sets based on her Social Security benefits—it’s creeping closer to half. I'm planning to spend some time this week trying to sort through everything regarding her disability claims and social services to see if we can get it all straightened out.
Emily Cook8 said:Hey Diego, aren't you entitled to your mom's Social Security benefits? Have you even looked into that yet?
She was receiving a pension from somewhere like $600, and back when she passed away, I was still working, so I never really bothered to look into whether I could claim anything. At the time, my salary was hovering around $1400 +/-$100. Since then, things have changed—I finished up my job about five months ago, but she actually passed seven and a half months ago.
It looks like things aren't panning out with the job at the plant, or any other openings around here. I’m probably going to have to head to Washington, D.C., though I wouldn't rule out moving anywhere else in the States if they offer a position along with housing.
Honestly, I just feel like I'm struggling through life so much harder than everyone else seems to. I feel like I'm just drifting aimlessly from one job to the next, constantly battling this illness and trying to manage all these medications. The banks don't care about my situation, and I'm stuck just dealing with the grind. There are moments when it feels easier to just take two entire boxes of Lexapro and go to sleep forever. But then again, if that doesn't actually work and I just end up in a coma, that would be an absolute nightmare. If I were ever serious about ending it, I'd have to find a way that actually works, rather than relying on pills. I don't own a gun, but I do have a rope. I wonder if there are any tutorials on YouTube showing how to tie a noose🤣🤣 I haven't searched for it yet, and I doubt anyone would actually post something like that, though I suppose anything is possible on the internet.
I realize I'm just talking like this because the depression is hitting me hard right now, but I don't actually intend to take my own life. 😲 It isn't the answer, and it certainly isn't a smart way to handle things. I'd much rather endure whatever struggles come my way until the end of my days and pass away naturally, rather than choosing something violent and self-inflicted.🙂 🙂 🙂
Here’s a little bit of good news for once... There might be an opening at my dad's company, and he's thinking about bringing me on board.
His business mainly deals with grains, corn, sunflowers, and all that—things like silos, seed supplies, and custom animal feed blends. That’s where this specific position just opened up. I actually spent some time working there about two years back. I think I’m going to go for it. I’d love to have something steady under my belt, but since things haven't quite worked out that way yet, I’m just taking whatever opportunities come my way. Honestly, sitting around feeling sorry for myself because life has been a bit rough and my health hasn't been great doesn't really get me anywhere. Sure, I deal with my fair share of struggles, but wallowing in self-pity isn't going to fix anything. If I can work, at least I'll have a way to make a living and stay on top of my bills. I know disability benefits are always an option down the road, but I don't think it's time for that just yet. As long as there’s a chance to pull my weight and hold down a job, I’m going to take it.
silvereagle7 said:I get where you're coming from, man... having an illness really narrows down your options, which feels totally unfair... you've got the drive and the hustle, and your boss thinks you're solid, but the system just won't let you be...
Have you thought about moving back to Washington, D.C.? You might have more luck there, especially since you mentioned you used to pull decent paychecks and felt more connected to people back in the capital... maybe there are better openings waiting for you in Washington, D.C.?
For me, it was a two-year stretch (2018–2020) when I was installing pre-fabricated steel buildings for an Austrian firm, working across the US and even heading over to Canada, Mexico, and Germany a couple of times. I wasn't allowed to work at heights, either—though I actually went up anyway. It’s not that I’m afraid of heights, but because of the medication I’m on, I'm technically prohibited from it, which feels completely nonsensical to me. I can wrap my head around not being allowed to drive, since you need quick reflexes on the road and those meds could cause an accident, but banning me from working at heights makes zero sense and just narrows down my already limited job prospects. Honestly, I don't think my doctor realizes how much he's made things harder for me by declaring me unfit for the role. He's just trying to cover his own tracks, but in doing so, he's created a mess for me. Instead of worrying about falling off a roof—which could happen to anyone, whether they're on medication or not—I'm instead spiraling into these dark mental crises where I contemplate suicide, all because the profession is so enslaved to rigid official regulations. I'd love nothing more than to hand him the warning notice I just received from the bank because I missed two months of payments on my mother's loans. And yeah, I'll probably have to go back to Washington, D.C., because what else can I do? I'm trying to make it work here, but it's just not happening. I'm far too young to just withdraw from the world and surrender to sickness and poverty. I need money, and the only way for me to get it is to work. If I can't work, I won't even be able to afford the basic necessities of life, let alone anything more.
silvereagle7 said:I know plenty of folks who pick up side gigs in greenhouses or doing cleaning jobs strictly under the radar... basically just cash under the table since they can't land anything official right now, but since you're out in the Midwest at the moment, I'm not entirely sure what the local landscape looks like over there... You've been through way too much and you're honestly such a powerhouse to be throwing in the towel now... The system is just the way it is, we're living in a capitalist society after all, so I figured you were just doing whatever you had to do to get by if things weren't going quite the way they should...
But look, it’s a bit of a catch-22. I manage to land a job, my employer is actually really happy with my performance, and then suddenly, three weeks in, a doctor hands me a report saying I’m unfit for duty because I’m strictly forbidden from working at heights—which is exactly what this job requires. They’re being kind enough to cover all my necessary medications for free, but let's face it, you can't pay your mortgage or buy groceries with a handful of pills. It’s like they want to support my ability to work, yet they tell me I can't go up high, I can't work night shifts, and I can't operate heavy machinery or vehicles. At this point, I think employers are starting to wonder what I *am* actually allowed to do. 😕
Carol Barrett2 said:Man, @Harold Anderson3, you’re really going through it. It’s such a shame to have to cut this short—I hate even talking about it—but we're dealing with these sharks over at JP Morgan trying to snatch our apartment away. They jacked up the interest rates on the utility debts until it was impossible, and all we had to work with for years was the absolute minimum pension... just us four, then three
The whole goal now is just to pay off these old vultures while we've still got some life left in us, just so we can actually keep this place
Can you believe it? When Grandma passed away, she was only about eighty-three, so it felt inevitable that Mom would follow pretty soon given her health. Now that Mom is gone, I feel like I'm just waiting for my own turn to go, one way or another... I honestly don't have the heart for anything anymore.
silvereagle7 said:They aren't going to wipe those debts for you, and honestly, you'd have to be crazy to co-sign for anyone these days... might be better to just find some under-the-table work until things settle down...
I don't really see the point in working under the table if I can't even get the benefits of being officially employed.
I’ve reached a point where I just can't bring myself to stress anymore, whether it’s about my career, the debt I owe to the banks, or pretty much anything else for that matter. Honestly, the only way my dad could really step up for me is if he let me move back into his place, assuming the bank ends up foreclosing on mine and leaves me completely out on the street. My mom brought me into this world—even if she had other options, I suppose—and I feel like I’ve done my part by her; I truly believe I helped her enough to make her life significantly easier just by being around. As for what happens to me next, well, it isn't entirely in my hands. If people think I’m not cut out for work, fine, but it’s perfectly obvious that if I'm deemed incapable of holding a job, then I simply won't have any way to pay back my loans or the ones my mother owes.
silvereagle7 said:Harold Anderson3, what’s the deal with your old man? Is he even in the loop with all this? I mean, couldn't he step in just a little bit... you're his kid, after all... or maybe some family from your mom's side... or even your dad's people... just to help carry the load until you get back on your feet? And what about your friends? Surely you've got someone in your corner... you aren't alone, and you definitely aren't some pushover, you're a fighter... it would just be a hell of a lot easier if you had at least a little support from somewhere... I just don't see where your father is in all this, or where your friends have gone...
My dad actually helped me quite a lot over the last year or two, even back when my mom was still with us, and he ended up covering the entire cost of her funeral. It’s certainly not his obligation to bail me out, as I’ve been an adult for a long time now. My employer was actually ready to bring me on board, and I've been working for him for three weeks already, right up until he saw the occupational health report stating I don't meet the physical requirements for the role. Then there's the bank, which is insisting on getting its cut—basically demanding I pay off my mom's loans because the inheritance value exceeds the debt. As for friends... honestly, that's a strange question to ask, because I don't think anyone looks for friends specifically to have them pay off their debts, do they? I feel pretty miserable, abandoned, and mostly just angry at the doctors and the bank, though I've already explained the details of that mess above. I was there for my mom until her very last breath, yet now I'm left feeling like I'd rather just end it all to find some peace, because it feels like you're only considered valuable as long as you're productive—as if you don't deserve to exist if you can't work.
I honestly can't wrap my head around it. My doctors are telling me I'm not fit to work right now, yet at the exact same time, my bank is breathing down my neck to settle my debts. I realize a bank isn't exactly a medical professional, but it feels like I'm just running in circles here. It’s this endless loop—me, the bank, the doctors, and my employer all pulling in different directions. In this whole messy equation, I feel like I'm actually the least important part of the entire thing. Almost like I don't even matter.
Andrew Doyle said:For heaven's sake, Harold Anderson3...😢 The equity you have in your home still outweighs your debt (and if you're unemployed, how are they even collecting on that debt? Or did they grant you some kind of moratorium? 🤔), so by that logic, selling the house isn't your only option, is it? 🤷
They aren't actually collecting anything from me because there's simply nothing left to take; they just keep sending these relentless notices regarding my mom's loans. My own payments are automatically deducted from my account, but hers just sit there unpaid. It’s precisely because the total debt is less than the equity I hold in the house that they're trying to force me to settle her debts too.
I just found out I failed my medical exam for a job. That’s the second time in three months. I've been out of work since May 2022. Honestly, I'm starting to feel like there's no point in even trying anymore. I'm sitting on about $50,000 in debt, $0.00 though I do own two-thirds of a house worth roughly $15,000. The math is pretty straightforward—sell the house, clear the debts, and end up living on the streets. Just live off welfare or disability benefits. That's just how things work here in America. Our beautiful America. I love this country so much that I’m practically ready to move into it—specifically, about six feet underground. 🎉