Thanks to the subsidized housing, it seemed "bearable". I tolerated these conditions for years. Now that I've degenerated, things are about to get a lot worse.

When I first came here and read that my depression should have been cured in only a short time, I knew something was wrong, because my depression has lingered. I resolved to get every bit of help that I could for my condition. I even started journaling to keep track of other symptoms. And I was open with the staff in charge of my care, no matter how obnoxious they seemed at times.

But allowing the dietician into my life was clearly a big mistake, as I have mentioned her on here before. In addition to her mentioning that "one meal was not enough to live on," she was constantly asking me if anyone was coming in to mop the kitchen floor or to clean the carpet. That's not in the attendant's job description.

I think maybe vaccuming the carpet is, but that's about it. And hearing the vacuum cleaner irritated me at the best of times. Now it's the worst. And if I can't afford more than one meal a day, then how can I hire someone to mop the kitchen floor?

This woman is nice, but she is out of touch with reality. She can railroad me into a nursing home if I'm not careful. With my poverty, disability and mental illness, I am vulnerable to overtures from bureaucrats like her, but I, unlike most people, am not blind. I will do what it takes to get this person out of my life, should she prove to be a threat, even tell her that I'll go to a church lunch club to get extra food. (With my pain, I'll never make it to either church. I can't even make it to the grocery store now. A bus pass would cost $60. The only way to travel when on a disability pension is by wheelchair. Even a bus pass is a luxury.)

She is looking into getting a special diet allowance, but I don't trust her as far as I can spit.

It's just a matter of time before she's gone. And if she's not, I'll revolt. Because if she's waiting for the day I'll get three square meals a day before she leaves, she'll be stuck with me for life.

If she's not gone soon, I might just throw her out of my apartment, or be very tempted to. I wish I could, but she has too much power.

Actually, I want her out of my hair now, desperately.

There is a thing more crippling than cerebral palsy: the prison of your own mind.