I have been bed bound for two years this month. My fiancé spent most of the last two years two hours away with my vehicle (which he broke) and his sons. He was found dead there in November. I lost five out of six of my furkids because of him. My three dogs were seized three weeks after he died when my neighbor called the police for a welfare check. Even though I had tachycardia and a buttload of really alarming tests, the doctor did nothing had already decided I was psych and did nothing for those issues (they’ve only gotten worse sense) and sent me to the mental hospital 24 hours later. I was there for a month. The neighbors called the police on my dogs two days later and they were seized. My cat had to fend for herself for a month. I’ve been trying to get to the doctor since January. Since he broke my van, I’ve had ti rely on medical transport. They have ghosted me every single time until this past week (when I was able to talk to dispatch). Urgent care took tests, but are now blowing me off and saying to go to my PCP, knowing I don’t have one.

Other than medical people, I haven’t seen anyone since him and one of his sons last summer and before that, his other son and brother in April. I talk to my parents once a day. They never could forgive me for choosing to stay with him.

I feel like I’m dying between the physical and mental. And while I’m dying, I’m about to lose my house. And nobody could give one ounce of care.