Tag Archives: Sadness

Girl, Interrupted

 

When you fill your time reading multiple books & watching many movies on the subject of loony bins, you run the risk of believing you belong locked inside one. Sometimes you have to be careful to pay attention to the line between reality & fiction. Granted, some of the stories I have read & watched are in fact based on true stories, which makes it that much more frightening in my anxiety & depression filled mind.
Recently, I have watched Girl, Interrupted repeatedly. If you ask me why, my answer would be one of uncertainty. It just feels like something I want & need in my life. I also love the story & the acting. What I love the most about the story though, is that it is adapted from the story of Susanna Kaysen. The more I read about her, the more fascinated I become with her. It took her into the 90’s to release Girl, Interrupted, even though the story actually happened in the late 60’s. That gives me a great deal of hope in regards to having my book published once I have it finished.
That’s the problem, isn’t it? My finishing it. I have given that a great deal of thought recently. What I have come up with is the fact that many of the stories I am reliving in the retelling were so painful the 1st time, I’m beginning to feel the same pain during the writing process. This is a contributing factor to my worsening depression. That being said, I will not stop writing. I will not give up my dream, even if I am aware that the cards are stacked against me. The literary world is not an easy one to break into these days.
I’m working on getting out of my way. It’s not easy, but if I’ve survived myself this long, I should be able to do anything!

 

Advertisements

1 Comment

Filed under Blogging, Life, Opinions, Real Life, Writing

If you lived here, you’d be home by now

Here is a statement I have spent a lot of time pondering lately. Since April I have found myself without a home, but in all honesty that reality stretches back months before.

The last time I remember feeling really truly “at home” was at my sub-leased apartment in Los Angeles. It was also the last time I lived alone. It’s coming up on a year since I left there to return here to my supposed support system.

As soon as I moved back to Michigan I was living in someone elses house. They did, at times, their best to make me feel it was my home as well. Sometimes it did, but not often. Mostly, they treated me like a troubled teen & they were my foster parents. The disturbing fact about this is that they are my age. I love how people use your mistakes to make themselves feel better about their empty or somehow unfulfilled lives. I’ve already told the story of how my time ended there, no need to dredge it back up again.

Then onto the farm, which I have also written about. This is the place where my life nearly ended, by my own choice. As I stared at that bottle of Oxys, thinking about how many it would take to get the job done right, I also thought about Heather & what not only losing me would do to her, but the knowledge that I used her pills to end my life. That is what kept me from going through with it. That was also the only real opportunity I’ve had to end my life by going to sleep & never waking up. What can I say, I’m a pussy. I can’t end my life in violence. I can’t slit my wrists. I can’t shoot myself. I can’t hang or drown myself. This might have something to do with the fact that I actually don’t want to die. I just want a way out of this sinkhole I’ve gotten myself stuck in.

There is no one to blame but me. Sure, people have wronged me & I them. That’s not the point. I’m in charge of me, or supposed to be anyway. I did this. I am the only one who can undo it. Now I just have to figure out how.

Right, I digress, back to the farm. I spent 2 months at this place & slid further into the darkness every day that I was there. It’s easy to do that there. It’s a sad place full of broken people going around in circles. It was the perfect place for me to lose myself. I just didn’t deal with any of my problems, dug the holes deeper & swallowed pills to numb any semblance of emotion. Every day was exactly the same. Sleep 12-14 hours, thanks to the pills. Otherwise I wouldn’t have slept at all. This is also the time that my eating habits became sporadic. I existed on Dr. Pepper & onion bagels.  I have never cared less about anything in my life as I did during that period. I would go 5-7 days without showering. What was the point? Then one day I had to come down to Detroit for an event I was supposed to work.

I needed somewhere to stay over the weekend, so I didn’t have to drive the 60 miles between the farm & Detroit. So I called a guy I used to be able to rely on. He abruptly blew me off, leaving me hanging & stuck. I laid in my car for an hour or so, contemplating whether or not I should contact my friend who lives down here. We have kept in touch, but had not seen much of each other in the years since I had moved away from Detroit. I felt a great deal of guilt as I text her, but the panic I felt at the thought of sleeping in my car in Detroit outweighed the worry of asking her. It was only for the weekend, so it couldn’t be that bad, right? WRONG!

2 days has turned into 2 months & I have become a blob of self-pity, depression & burden on my friends who are also going through very difficult transitional periods in their life, yet still manage to take care of their responsibilities on a daily basis. It fills me with shame & heightens the self-pity. I don’t stack up. I am the giant wart on the thumb of this house. I feel it every moment of every day, unless I have managed to find a way to keep myself busy, doing anything.

When I came here & the initial discussions were that I could stay here while I got myself together, that when I got some money coming in I would contribute. Due to my frozen state, that has yet to happen & I feel the time for me to leave is growing nearer by the minute, rather than the hour. This week is the 1st time I’ve really made a concerted effort to change my circumstances. I am doing it for me, first & foremost yes, but at the same time, because of what these beautiful women have done for & put up with from me, I want to do it for them as well. I want to see in me what they do….SO badly!

So, for today, as I sit on the back porch of this home I’ve grown to love, the only thing I can think to say is….If I lived here, I’d be home by now.

Stay tuned for tomorrows installment. Who knows, it may even be a vlog lol

❤ to all who follow & care!

You don’t know what it means to me, this growing group of people showing an interest in my disaster of a life.

Thank you

Leave a comment

Filed under Blogging, Life, Real Life, Writing

I’ve fallen & I can’t get up

Do you ever ask yourself how you happened to find yourself in a particular situation at some point during your life, good or bad? Of course you have, we all go through up s& downs, happy times & tragedies. It does seem, however, that some people are more prone to struggles, pain, sadness & failure, as if they are somehow cursed or followed by the proverbial dark cloud. That would be me.

As I type this, I find myself sitting on a bed with no frame, in the spare room of a wonderful & caring friend much younger than me, because I am once again homeless & hoping to start over. During the last 7 weeks I have found it difficult to do even the most basic of tasks, such as showering, brushing my teeth, changing my clothes, working my job or serious challenges such as finding the will to live another day. For the first time in my 42 years, I don’t care if I live or die. Considering the life I have led, the things I have endured, been witness to or caused myself, one would think that suicide had crossed my mind multiple times. The truth is, no matter how dark the skies, how difficult the challenge, until now, I always fought my way back up & started over again. But not this time. I don’t know if I have just finally hit the wall as far as having the strength to start over yet again or if this particular scenario & the outcome have damaged me deeper than any other period of failure in my life. I do know one thing….this time something has to change permanently, there is no alternative.

When I reach inside my memories, looking for a reason why I insist on living such a miserable, painful, mundane life; there are many signposts leading me to this exact moment.

But I keep running into the same answer….at the very back of my mind, locked behind layers of doors & brick walls, hanging on a wall….is a mirror. The reflection in the mirror is of me. I am the reason I have chosen to live this miserable, painful, mundane life.

Me!

Now what?

Leave a comment

Filed under Life, Uncategorized

Hamster Wheel

“Ambition is the last refuge of the failure.”
~Oscar Wilde

The words of Oscar Wilde seem to speak so directly to me in whatever situation I find myself in. Who knows, maybe if I spent more time writing down my own words I wouldn’t rely so heavily on others.

I’m sure it’s quite obvious to whoever is left reading this that I have been going yet ANOTHER major life change, several in fact. I realized yesterday that I haven’t written a new blog post since August. That’s a pretty big stretch for me & explains a lot about why I have been feeling stifled yet again. I seem to get so caught up in whatever bullshit drama I create for myself that I lose my creative drive & focus. I just give up, all over again…& again & again.

In the eyes of many, coming home to Detroit after not trying nearly enough in Los Angeles, I did not fail. Ask me if I feel that I failed & I will say yes. Why? Because I never really fought. I just gave in, crumbled, fell apart, gave in to the negative recordings in my head that tell me I have no creative talent, I will never amount to whatever pipe dream fantasy I have been living in for as long as I can remember, I am not the “Hollywood Type”, that I don’t deserve it, that I’m not good enough. Who knows what the truth is….surely not me. 

I was never one of those kids who was told I could do or be anything I wanted. Honestly, I wasn’t told much at all in the way of inspiration, support or guidance. I realize now that my parents weren’t equipped to tell themselves these things, let alone me. There is no fault here, even though for decades I set it squarely on their shoulders. When you stop to think about the damage we gain as broken children…yeah, our families & environment played a large part in shaping who we are today, but really…who carries on the negative reinforcement? We do. We tell ourselves we aren’t good enough. We set ourselves up to fail, repeatedly. We sabotage anything good that comes our way. We do all the real, long term damage. If we are all truly in control of our own destinies, then why are we all so busy blaming everyone & everything else for our problems, shortcomings & emotional damage?

So, here I sit, freezing my ass off, asking myself what I could have done differently to have endured Los Angeles. The answer is pretty simple…nothing. I wasn’t capable of saving myself from complete destruction. I have no idea how, not in that environment. It was the first time in my life where I found myself in a place & a situation that I couldn’t overcome, at least enough to move on to the next mistake. I even found myself convinced that if I didn’t get out of there when I did that I would die. I believe that to be true, but not necessarily in a literal sense, more metaphorically speaking. Who I am would have died, my faith in me, my fight, my essence, not my actual body….but who knows, maybe I was even closer to real death than I realized at the time. Getting jumped/robbed/beat up didn’t help my disposition much either. Funny thing about that entire experience & my eventual & inevitible exodus is that I miss that place every single day since I boarded the plane to leave. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll go back & try it all over again.

Now that I have been back in Detroit for a few months one thing is clear. From the first time I moved out of here, I have never really wanted to live here. I do love it & all the people who possess space in my heart, but the idea & practice of me living in this place feels like purgatory to my soul. I just don’t feel what I used to & so many others still do here. I just don’t care. I know now that there is a whole world out there to explore & experience. I am a restless soul & of all places to sit still, I never thought Detroit would be where I found myself once again. Sure, there are good & wonderful things that have happened since my most recent return, there always are. Sadly, the inevitable negatives at the very least equal the good, as they always do.

What can I say? I know my imagination & dreaming sharply contrast my ability & drive. Who doesn’t think they are meant for something greater than the life they are living? Please! I am pretty sure most people convince themselves of that just so they can survive their mundane existence. 

What am I really trying to say in this post? SO much….much more than I have the energy for & too many topics to post at once, sadly. If I continue, this will read like some simplistic high school diary post. 

Change is inevitible & a vital part of the life cycle…..but I’m tired.

 

In my next post….the 5lb puppy who awakened my heart & facing a possible cancer diagnosis.

1 Comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Emotional Rescue

I was having a conversation with one of my closest girlfriends back in Detroit today, about our concerns for a couple of our married guy friends & the way they are, in different ways, ruining the lives they wanted so badly now that they have them. Only this time, as we were talking, it turned towards our own lives, how neither of us could understand how a person can want something so badly, only to be miserable once they have it. It truly makes no sense to either of us. These guys are literally the greatest guys we have ever known, yet they don’t see it. I never did understand the concept of wanting something you can’t have & once you do get it, you don’t want it anymore. Or allowing yourself to be lost in someone else, caving to their needs, their insecurity, their unhappiness, in spite of your own needs, wants & desires. I just think it’s stupid & a waste of time. I mean, why even bother if you’re going to throw it all away once you find something or someone who makes you feel good, makes you smile, makes you look forward to spending time with them, getting to know them, even their weird habits & quirks?

At a certain point in the conversation I finally said out loud for the first time in ages that I don’t like the idea of spending my life alone, that I would prefer to spend it with a good man, someone who gets me, who actually likes me, who thinks I’m pretty as well as funny or sexy. That appears to be a far-fetched expectation. First of all, I don’t attract those types of guys. I attract the broken guys, the closed off guys, the cruel, addicted & lost. So, what exactly does this mean for me?

I’m 40 fucking years old! When did that even happen? Why don’t I feel it? When will I be able to wrap my brain around this fact & accept it already? How did I miss out on EVERY good thing a person is meant to experience in life? I seriously feel like I’ve been in a coma since I was a child & I’m just waking up, feeling really groggy & confused. I have been so filled with fear for as long as I can remember that I have missed out on milestones & important moments that most people experience like high school prom, graduation (which I attended to watch my friends graduate, crying the whole time), a real college experience, marriage, children. I may have a genius level IQ, but I didn’t even complete grade 9! I did, however, receive my GED at 20 years old & considering the wild child I was at the time, it is a fact that I am extremely proud of!

I was speaking with a guy recently & he asked me if I had ever been married, to which I replied honestly “no, I just never got around to it”. He laughed, guess he thought it was a joke, but it was true. It’s just another thing I never allowed myself. Same thing with my not having children. I just couldn’t do it, no matter that I know with complete confidence that I would have been a loving & wonderfully patient mother. Oh well, chalk it up with the rest of the things I’ll never know or feel. When you grow up seeing every possible bad thing that can happen in a marriage or of being a parent, it does tend to scare you away from making these mistakes yourself.

Sure, I’ve lived a life of adventure, so to speak, but if you really look at it, I’ve actually lived the life of a carny, a gypsy, moving from town to town, never putting down roots & always just passing through. It’s a life that suits me for one reason & one reason only. It allows me to keep living in the fear. It allows me to keep from being hurt AGAIN. It allows me to hide my pain, my sadness, my broken heart, my complete loneliness. I realized today, while talking to my friend that I am SO lonely that all I really want is a guy to hold me, brush my hair out of my face & kiss my forehead. Simple, sincere affection. Again, it seems too much for me to ask. I suppose that’s what I get for spitting in the face of opportunity for so many years. I’ve watched my entire life pass me by like a moving train & now I want it back! I want to feel what other people get to feel. I want to feel love, without the fear of being betrayed or being left behind to mourn their death far too young & before we were even given the chance to start the life we planned. I want to feel safe. I want to feel desired. I want to feel……..anything!

The brain has an amazing way of protecting us from going completely insane. It blocks out the most painful of events. Considering the stuff I’m stuck remembering, it frightens me to think that some day the periods of time I don’t remember could come rushing back & cause me to snap. I realize that at the age of 40 I should be over all the bad that has happened in my life. I believe that I have done amazingly well considering. I have a good relationship with both of my parents now & it feels normal for the first time in my life. It took a lot to get here, on all our parts. I had to break the cycle, jump out of the hamster wheel, someone had to!

Not that long ago, I watched a great documentary of Carrie Fisher‘s one woman show “Wishful Drinking“. At some point, early in the show I believe, she said “If my life wasn’t funny, it would just be true”. When she said that, I burst into hysterical tears, because I understood that sentence to its very core. A lot of what I’ve survived is funny to me now, because I lived through it, I survived it, I didn’t allow it to totally break me. Don’t get me wrong, I am slightly broken. I am damaged. I am scarred. But I’m still here, so there’s still time to make the best of every day, right? That’s where my surprising optimism comes in.

Look at it this way. If 75% of your life was difficult, traumatic, painful, sad, frightening…if you were molested at the age of 4 by a group of young boys who you were left in the care of, then taunted & teased for several years after, not even being able to understand what had happened, let alone why you were being teased; if you walked in on a man beating your mother nearly to death & then have the gun he was using to torture her with pointed at your head while you called the cops on him at the age of 14 & you then found yourself living on the streets of Detroit, being raped because you chose the wrong house to pass out drunk &/or stoned in more than once, having to figure out for yourself how to survive on a daily basis, because home wasn’t a pleasant or safe option with either parent; if you were a ward of the state at the age of 15, taken in by your grandmother, for the second time, who didn’t know how to deal with your actions & were then expelled from school & sent to a special ed school because you couldn’t relate to anyone else your own age or even stay in a single class because you were too restless; if you kept running away at every opportunity, never realizing it was you that you were trying to escape; if you OD’d at the age of 17 & had to force yourself to stay alive, because no one around you would help or take you to a hospital….wouldn’t you want to have as many good years as you possibly could have before it was all over? It is truly all I want. Sadly, these are only a few examples of the pain & horror I have experienced the entire time I have been alive. I try to remind myself that there are people who have had it MUCH worse than me, but it really isn’t any consolation. It just makes me sad for those people, because I know what real pain feels like & the fact that I am an extreme empath makes my heart ache for all those who have been damaged in their lives.

My dreams are very simple, yet so difficult to achieve, mostly because I have no idea how to go about attaining this. I am ill-equipped at completely opening up to someone & trusting that they won’t be disgusted or repulsed by me & my experiences. I have mastered, for the most part, my disguises, my masks that I wear to hide the sadness & shame. On the occasions like I wrote about last night, I freeze. I shut down. I considered running out the door of the coffee shop where we were talking at least 3 times, not because of anything he was or wasn’t doing, but because he could see right through my walls, my mask & it scared the hell outta me. So what do I do? I make it a point to freak him out, scare him away….so I don’t have to see him again & risk letting him in. Now I actually regret that. It is beyond rare that someone can see through to the real me. I had the possibility of having a new friend in my life that I wouldn’t have to hide all my deep, dark secrets from. I could tell I would have been able to open up to & be honest with this guy & he wouldn’t judge me at all. Now, there is just a guy walking around Los Angeles freaked out by the thought of running into me. That fucking sucks! It makes me feel like shit! But I won’t do anything at all. I won’t attempt to change his mind or contact him. If I do see him around town, I’ll do my best to make sure that he doesn’t notice me & if he does, I’ll get myself out of whatever place we both happen to be in. I’m too ashamed to handle it any other way. This is one of those cases where I wish I could get a do over, even if I’m not sure I would do better the second time, but something in me feels the need to make it right. I fucking like the guy, damn it. Believe me, I don’t want to, but I do. I like that he could see me. I just wish I could have felt it in that moment.

What I do know for certain is I can’t sit around & throw myself a pity party. I hate that! I write this out so I can not only get these thoughts out of my head, but to attempt to leave them here, so I can keep moving forward in life. This blog is my sanctuary of truth, confession & hope. It provides me a place to let my deepest thoughts & fears out, so that I can let the good in. I know good things are coming my way…I just have to be open to it & not run & hide.

Leave a comment

Filed under Blogging, Dating, Family, Friendship, Life, Relationships, Single Life, Writing

As Tears Go By

Ok, so…..I’m not a big watcher of television, it’s pretty empty to me, however there are certain actors & certain content that I do enjoy. There is a new show this season on NBC, I think, called Parenthood. It starts Peter Krause & Lauren Graham. I am a fan of Peter Krause from Six Feet Under, which is one of my favorite all time shows. I like Lauren Graham for many things, but mainly, I really liked Gilmore Girls. I can’t explain it, I just liked it, whatever.

So, I have watched episodes of Parenthood on Hulu & by the end of EVERY SINGLE EPISODE I am crying my little crybaby eyes out. I know why this is, I just don’t talk about it, ever. I am pissed, jealous & upset that I have never been the girl who got married & had kids. I’m not sure this is something I did on purpose, well, a few times it was on purpose. I’ve been afraid of everything all my life & it seems I have scared myself out of true love, marriage & children. I’ll just add it to the list of things I never had the nerve to do. That is SUCH a long list & I hate it! I hope to burn it one day.

I’ve gone through a tough time lately. I know this is obvious to anyone who knows me or reads this blog, all 10 of you. lol There are multiple reasons for this, some that I’ve already written about, some I haven’t & some I never will.

I am mourning the loss of so many people that I have honestly lost count. That’s a sad thought within itself. In the last 6 months alone I’ve known 3 people who have passed away from very similar problems. They all died from bad hearts. 2 were Congestive Heart failure.

1 of them was my grandfather, who I barely knew, but he was a wonderful man. I literally found out that he passed away because my step-mother reads to obituary’s & saw his name, saying something to my dad, who then called me. I just sat in silence while he talked, didn’t cry. I was with my younger brother, who’s only 22 & never knew him, so I didn’t want to get upset in front of him, because he worries about me, in that cute, protective brotherly way. It was March 18th, 3 days shy of his 84th birthday. With his second wife they had 7 children, who all grew up to be happy & successful people, because I  believe, they had a loving & nurturing family. I’ve been alive nearly 40 years, I could have had 39 years with this man, but I didn’t because the cross-family conflict ran too deep for me to EVER understand. All I know is that I was the biggest victim in all this conflict, well me & my dad, but he helped perpetuate it once he was an adult. I never did. I always wanted to know him, as well as my 7 Aunts & Uncles & my 18 cousins. I had a little under 2 years with him from 12-14 & I just LOVED him. I was just instinctively like him & that was so weird to me, because I have a hard time comprehending a close & loving family connection. Yeah, I’m close to my parents NOW, but that’s only been in the last 5 years of my life. I wish I could have known the man his 18 other grandchildren called papa. I wish for my dad that he could have felt loved by his father, maybe then so many things would have been different. Luckily for us, I broke our family cycle, someone had to. I wrote an entire blog about him after his passing if you want to know more about our story.

The second person who passed away from Congestive Heart Failure was my friend Kevin, 6 months ago. He was 42 & had a 12-year-old son who adored him & he adored right back. I knew Kevin for 20 years & he was a really wonderful, funny, sarcastic, talented & beautiful soul. He was like me in some ways, sarcasm being the prevailing similarity. He was always struggling to make ends meet, often found himself out of work, never had money saved. Basically, what I’m trying to say is that Kevin struggled his entire adult life. He was stressed a lot of the time. He didn’t get nearly enough joy in his life before his heart gave out on him. That just doesn’t seem fair to me. I wish he was still walking the earth, spending quality time with his son, playing guitar, cooking delicious food, smiling, laughing, making fun of people, breathing. I wasn’t able to make his memorial, which was a sad affair for a few reasons, the obvious being his age, but also that his family refused to pay for a service & so his friends had to scramble to put something together. Luckily, someone knew a person whose family owned a funeral home & they let them use it for free. That was lovely of them. His body was not in attendance though, because that costs extra. Dying is not cheap! Anyway, I was still in Florida then & was struggling financially myself, so I couldn’t afford the plane ticket up. On the day of the memorial, my friend Amy called me several times to fill me in on the goings on; who spoke, what they said, how everybody was holding up. It was one of those moments that breaks your heart, because you know this event is going on & you so much want to be there, but can’t for reasons beyond your control. You feel so alone, because you are not with your friends, mourning, looking at photographs, telling stories. You are all alone, in a state far from anyone who understands the pain of this loss. There were many tears shed that day & night. I still don’t feel a closure with Kevin, much like my friend Angelo who passed away from an aneurysm in January of 2008, which could have been stopped, had he gone to the hospital, but I’m NOT blaming him, I just selfishly wish he were still here, mostly for his children. I couldn’t make it to his funeral either, being in Florida & not being given enough notice to get back up here. Or Amanda, oh Amanda……my ex-boyfriends niece, who I really did love like a daughter/good friend, who passed away in July of 2008 of a heroin overdose. Her funeral was one I was told I was not welcome to attend by my scumbag ex-boyfriend, who by the way copped the dope that killed her & he’s telling me I can’t go to her funeral? Afterward, I was told & saw photographs of the tailgating party they were holding in the parking lot of the funeral home. No wonder this happened, the adults in her life were/are walking disasters in their own right!  Amanda was 17 years old & less than 8 hours away from leaving for Tennessee to clean up her act. She never made it to morning. I’m not now & doubt I ever will get over her death.

Lastly, on March 1oth, I lost someone who I cared about in a special, sweet & unforgettable way. I don’t & won’t discuss it in full, because it is precious & private  memory that most people wouldn’t be able to understand. He was a special person. He was, as one friend put it so beautifully…..magic. He passed away from Pneumonia & Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy, which in lay terms is basically thickening of the heart muscles causing them to enlarge. He also had Coronary Artery disease, which is the build up of plaque in the coronary arteries. As I look at all these big medical terms, the only thing that comes to mind is that his heart was just too big & it couldn’t go on any longer. It’s like his heart broke & just stopped. I can’t express enough how much I wish this wouldn’t have happened, that he would have gotten treatment for this earlier in life or that the hospital could have kept his pulse, heart rate & blood pressure going once they got it momentarily stabilized, but his body was just done. It was done fighting. He may not have been done, but his heart was. He was only 38 & like myself never married or had children, although we both really did want that in our lives.

It is moments like this that cause me to ask myself why. Why do things like this happen? Why are some people SO blessed with a good & happy life, while others are doomed to suffer? A friend has a theory that I kind of agree with, but that’s between us. All I can say is that I hope my loved ones who left too soon find themselves in a happy & healthy life next time around. For my Grandfather (Papa, I guess) I hope he is enjoying his time with loved ones who passed before him & that he is looking over his wife & letting her know that everything is ok & he’ll meet her when it’s her time to go.

I am sad today.

I hope tomorrow to feel happier.

I have grief counseling in the morning & hope that somehow that helps.

1 Comment

Filed under Dating, Family, Friendship, Life, Real Life, Relationships, Writing

“Winter”

I don’t like the way our society puts people into boxes that can be checked off, such as race, sex, marital status, financial status…..first of all, some of us are of more than one race. That being said, the race term “white” kind of offends me, to be brutally honest. It’s just such a blanket term. I know from researching my family tree, which by the way is driving me quite insane, that I am a good part Native American, but also Irish & Norwegian American. Where is THAT box?

Now, as a single woman on the verge of 40, I don’t enjoy having to check the “single” or “never been married” boxes on forms. I’m not sure why that is exactly, but it just makes me cringe. Not that I have EVER been one of those girls who was desperate to be married, obviously, it’s just something that I don’t find to be relevant in most cases, with some exception.

Lastly & the one I spent the day surrounded by is the classist society we live in. There has been much talk of the “middle class” in the past couple years & how it’s declining. What I have noticed is no mention of the fact that most of those who were once considered “middle class” are now “lower class” or…what would they call us….oh yeah, invisible. I promised myself that I would be brutally honest in this blog. That is not an easy thing to do when pride is involved, but I’m gonna grit my teeth & do it anyway. Times have been VERY tough for me since last year. I have had a very difficult time finding work in both the states I have lived in during this time period, which after finally finding my dream career & beginning to make a very comfortable living, was more painful than the days when I was young & just didn’t care. I fought with the state of Florida for the better part of a year to receive unemployment benefits that paid me per week less than I was making per day while I was working, but I was grateful just to be receiving something.

Suddenly, at the beginning of this year, after being approved for the tier 3 benefit extension, my benefits were discontinued. There was no explanation, no recourse, no more money. All this after I had made the choice to return to Michigan & attend the college of my dreams, having been offered a scholarship. This scholarship was the highest that the school gives, a bit higher than the highest actually, but unfortunately did not cover living expenses, so I thought I could survive off my unemployment benefits for a bit, while I got settled, started in school & began looking for work. One of my first & BIGGEST mistakes was coming back to Detroit & thinking I was going to find a job. Nobody would hire me. I was turned down for a job at Target, which actually REALLY upset me, because I know I’m qualified! I came back to Detroit the second week of January, it is now the second week in April & I have JUST found a job waitressing at a diner 3 weeks ago. I am stretched far beyond my limits, not only financially, but emotionally as well. I have had to withdraw from school for the time being. I will not lose my scholarship, but could not continue to afford the gas money just to get downtown, let alone the small amount of tuition left over after all my scholarship & loan money. It has broken my heart, I have not shared this with any of my family, of course, they may read this blog for all I know, even though I haven’t really made them aware of it.

All of this being said, during these past several months, it is the love & support of my family & friends that has allowed me to survive. Had it not been for them, I don’t honestly know where I would be. I don’t really want to think about it. I bring up the classist society & tell of my story for a couple reasons….one is that it gets the pain & weight off my chest & secondly because I spent the entire day in the local Department of Human Services office, begging for food & medical assistance along side what had to be, throughout the entire day, hundreds of people. I cried sitting in that waiting area several times & not just because I’m a big baby who cries easily, which I am & do, whatever. Some of the stories I heard as I was sitting there just tore at my heart. I mean, if you knew me, you’d know that I could never sit in a room filled with people, any people & not talk to most of them. It’s just who I am. Sitting here, typing this, I’m starting to cry a bit again, thinking of those crying babies, whose mothers fought as hard as they could to hide their own tears & feelings of desperation to be strong for their children. I think of the people who were there for emergency state assistance & the amazing number of them who were turned away because their situation wasn’t “bad” enough to be considered. These were people with shut off notices, eviction notices…..yet somehow, that wasn’t bad enough. I think of the woman who was trying to quit smoking because she has congestive heart failure & sat in that office from 8:30 am until 3:00 pm. There are so many stories from my day, people yelling at the workers, the workers yelling back, people crying, begging for help, any sort of help, to survive & SO many of them being turned away.

After all this, I do find myself to be in a bit of an odd mood. I don’t really know how to feel. While I am grateful that I was approved for food assistance & can eat more regularly now, I am also keeping my fingers crossed for medical coverage, which I desperately need. But, at the same time, I feel kind of guilty. I feel guilty because my situation is not as bad as so many others out there. I feel guilty because I am eating on the taxpayers dime. I feel guilty because I AM able to work. I feel sad. I feel sad for all the children that are brought into this world by parents without the means to care for them without government help. I feel sad for all those who have worked so hard for so many years, only to find themselves sitting in a government office, applying for assistance because their jobs have been eliminated. I am sad for every person who is denied help.

I don’t know what the solution to this problem our country & world finds itself in. All I know is that it hurts to fall & have to fight your way back up.

4 Comments

Filed under Life, Opinions, Real Life, Writing