More on being poor

It’s been a while since we talked money.  And yes I am still poor, no change there – surprise surprise.  Ed McMahon hasn’t show up at my door with a big check telling me I have won Publisher’s Clearinghouse (dating myself here…), and hubby’s disability was denied AGAIN. At the hearing level.  What does that mean?  It means that we have a pretty low chance of it being approved- ever.  He has plan B in the works, but until then we are poor.  And I have in some ways gotten use to worrying about money over the years, we’ve been poor for many many years- though admittedly not as poor as we have been the past 5 years.  Anyway none of that is the point….

I am so tired of the way people treat you when you are poor.  Especially how they treat you when you are getting “help” otherwise known as WELFARE it’s a dirty word.  A word people whisper.  In fact it’s a word of a gone by era.  They call it other things now, food stamps are now supplemental nutrition assistance program, and there is TANF, temporary aid to needy families.   The names have changed but the way people look at those in line to spend their food stamps haven’t. They scrutinize what’s in your cart.

People in the community and on television say mean and nasty things about people receiving the help.  Calling them lazy, losers, moochers.  Drains on society.  Assume they all sorts of things about “those people”.

The workers at the Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS).  They are anything by human and certainly not HUMANE.  In the waiting room is a huge poster with a cartoon spy with a magnifying glass requesting people keep an eye out for people defrauding the system and report them.  It’s a very intimidating place.  To a young person I can imagine it would be scary.  To me, it incenses me.  They too scrutinize your every word, they look at you with disgust.  I get they are low paid, over worked employees of the state, but kindness is free.  And I would be willing to bet the majority of people coming through their doors do not want to be there.

I am tired of being judged because of where my life has taken me.  I am tired of people looking down on me and assuming I am a lazy, drain on society.  I have mental illness, I have enough to worry about, I don’t need to worry about the fact that my being poor is yet another thing that makes me different from everyone else around me.  I already live the fact that it makes my life harder.

So next time you see someone swipe their food stamps card give them a smile not a smirk.  If you hear someone lambasting the “welfare rats” remind them most people don’t want to be there.  And most importantly remember- kindness is always free.

Until next time.

Why is it always the same?

I started Lyrica the other day. It sucks. It’s not helping the widespread pain and I think it’s making me more depressed (if that’s even possible).

The freaking ringing in my ears can stop at anytime. I am seriously ready to just take a screwdriver to each ear and make myself deaf. If you want to know what it sounds like EVERYDAY, ALL DAY visit this link https://www.hear-it.org/Impressions-of-hearing-loss-and-Tinnitus- and click on Tinnitus example 1. It’s the buzz over the music. Imagine that loud 24/7. It’s maddening. I probably will wind up in a looney bin.

On top of all of this, we are supposed to be getting a new furnace through our local community action facility (basically helps poor people with things- yes I’m poor. ). But it isn’t coming until January. Our back up heat – the woodstove- is all well and good but we have MAYBE 2 days of wood left. No agencies around here can help until January. I had saved some money for the past couple months for an activity we are doing in January and wood is now going to take most of it. We started this furnace process in August. I’m praying the company can come before January- this stinks.

Basically everything sucks and is overwhelming. This is also the last 2 weeks of classes and the depression has zapped all motivation to finish this semester strong.

Pray that I can get through this all, if you are the praying type.

Until next time….

Posts I never post….

Do you ever pour your heart out into a post and never post it? Just save it to a draft and stuff the feelings down? I do.

Lack of Desire and Inability to Keep it Together….

First of all, been a while since I posted.  I haven’t been doing much lately.  I haven’t been drawing, or writing, or looking on Pinterest.  I go the appointments I have to go to, I go to baseball and lacrosse games when I have to, and I scroll facebook mindlessly for longer than I care to admit. I just have no desire/motivation to do anything anymore.  It sucks.  It just seems like nothing has been going right, and so I just feel BLAH.

As for keeping it together, we have 2 checkbooks and I can’t keep them balanced and with money in them not overdraft.  We are doing 2 different systems, cash like Dave Ramsay and debit cards.  It’s not working – we need to do one or the other. So tomorrow morning I have to go to both our banks and put some of our cash in so that everything thats floating in the ether will clear.

So yeah.

Envy.

I get it. I know that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. I know the grass is greener where you water it. I know all the platitudes.  But for today, I am going to let this emotion define the moment.  Envy is real.  Envy is a negative emotion, I get that.  But I can’t lie and say I don’t have envy in me.

Several people close to me are planning trips to see Mickey Mouse, others building their dream house, others the craft room of their dreams, still other making PRs in 5Ks, Half Marathons or Marathons.  Yes I know people show their highlight real.  Yes, I know that God has a purpose for my life, and I am right where I am supposed to be.  But sometimes you just have to acknowledge that your life sucks right now.  That you don’t have your crap together and you are 40.  That you can’t do the things you want to do.  That you are stuck.  I feel trapped.  I feel like things will never get better.  Like I am on a street and no matter which way I turn, no matter what street I go down, I get no where.

I am preoccupied with the thought that at 40 years old I am no where near where I thought I would be.  And the rest of me is preoccupied with my kids growing up.  We are talking driver’s ed, college, with big one, and little one turns 8 soon.  Eight is a big kid.  It won’t be long before she is tired of toys and dolls.  Everytime I think about the passage of time I am reminded of a line from Star Trek Generations:  “Someone once told me that time is predator that stalks you all your life”.  I agree. I wish there were a way to freeze time now and then.  It would make the unbearable days more bearable.

Im really struggling this week.  I probably should’t have written that all out.  But my heart hurts, physically hurts in my chest. I feel broken.

 

So Many Titles…

I had so many different ideas for what to title this blog. But none of them felt quite right.

First of all, I have been reluctant to post- (disclaimer: this part is about a comment on my blog- but has nothing to do with the poster of said comment, nor does it mean I am upset with the commenter)- because recently after a more positive post a comment was made that it was nice to see something positive posted. Immediately I clammed up.  I felt like “crap, people are sick of my problems”.  But In the end I decided to just take the comment as I know it was written- as a message showing happiness for my fleeting moment of positivity.

I struggle with constructive criticism, I over analyze what people say.  What everyone else thinks means more than what I think.

But I can’t hold this all in any more.  This has been a hard week.  I can’t give you a reason, because I don’t know. I have been sad and depressed all week.  Like major regression in my symptoms.  My OCD has been over the top- to the point that I offended a person in my DBT group because I moved my seat when I heard that she had been sick- and so I explained to the group if I do stuff like that, it’s me, not them.

And I’m just tired. So tired. Tired of this life.  It never gets better. It seems like I stand up and a big bully pushes me down, over and over.  And I am tired of getting up. I have tried so hard in the past month to try to do things to “make me feel better “.  But it doesn’t work.

And I have found that even dreaming about possibilities has it’s consequences.  I keep thinking about Marilla Cuthbert, and the things she used to say to Anne when Anne would let her imagination run wild, have romantic notions etc.  It’s not practical.  It’s not useful.  Never in my life has there been anyone who encourages me to dream.  They just point out the reality.  “I get it mom I will never be on star search” (6 or 7 year old me),  “I get it (insert name here) I am not as pretty as (insert name here)” (14-16 year old me).  “I know I will never amount to much dad”.  “I know I don’t shine mom”.  “I know I can’t manage money because I have a shopping compulsion- maybe it shouldn’t be my responsibility.”  “I know my bucket list will still be undone when I die”.

I get it.  This.  This is it. It’s never going to get better, and I will stop dreaming, hoping and wishing for it to get better. I see now that it does no good, because I will never change, I will always be a compulsive overeater, with a shopping problem, and a mental illness. I have always, and will always be weak.

When I was a kid my best friend and I came up with a phrase:

“Reality is too real for us, we live in the abstract”.

Looking at it with 30 or so years of knowledge I didn’t have then- it really was more like- our reality sucks, so we choose to wish/hope/dream of how it will be better “someday”.

But I think what I have learned over the past 2 years since my breakdown- for some people- someday never comes.  For some people, it’s scraping by, barely keeping your nose above the water line forever. For some people- they’ll always wonder “what’s the point?”

And if all that isn’t enough- the school isn’t following the IEP as written for my oldest.  Here we go.  It’s giving me PTSD flashbacks of our last fight when he was in 3rd grade, and I don’t know if I have it in me.  I don’t know if I can do it again…..

Saw Mary Poppins this week.  She added another med to my list. A mood stabilizer… probably a good idea.  Ive had 2 panic attacks in the past 2 days.  It’s been a couple months since I had a full on attack.  The craps hitting the fan again and I don’t know where to hide to dodge all the crap coming my way…..

Sorry for the downer post.  I just can’t keep it in anymore….