I have been waiting for what feels like years for life to get better. And I try to so hard to see the positives. I remind myself that I have the essentials. But that is all I have. I can’t aspire to more. Why? Because of financial constraints. Am I or my children going hungry? No. We have a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, and clothes on our backs. But how many times do I have to tell myself that to keep my going?
I don’t want that phrase to be my mantra. I want what it looks like other women have, but without having to prostitute myself. Sorry, but I draw the line at naked anything in front of any lens. That is not for me. But I do want more.
“Where is your man?” is a question I am sure you’ll ask. He’s here. Be worn away at with me. We are BOTH in the same boat. Did we help make the flood around our boat? Yes. I do acknowledge that I would not be where I am at now if I had not made some dumbass decisions.
That being said, we have been in this situation for what feels like years now. I am tired. I am sick of it. I don’t want to do this shit anymore. Being able to take my daughter to Disneyland was giving me an ulcer due to the money it cost. Why can’t the world be less expensive? Why does everything that is not a necessity considered a luxury?
I have adapted. Chocolate chip cookies costing too much? I’ll buy the ingredients so that I in what will cost me two bundles, I buy ingredients to make a few batches. I cook as much as I can. I buy only what is necessary.
At 8 years old I have to tell my son that “I don’t have the money for that.” Fuck that phrase. It can burn in hell. I consider going out and buying ice cream at coldstone a luxury. And the messed up part? I have a great job. So does my husband. We just mis-managed our money. That’s about 50% of the problem. The choices we made financially fit our lifestyle before the pandemic, before inflation. Now? We’re house poor.
I have been like a rodent in a wheel, where when I am not working at my job, I am working at home. Making food, washing dishes, laundry, kids, cleaning outside, walking the dog, rinse and repeat. Like a cog in a fucking machine. I have lost myself to my worries about money, being a nanny, chef, laundry person…I’ve lost myself. I don’t feel like a woman anymore. I don’t feel like me....and I don’t even know what me is.
Am I interesting to anyone? Do I excite anyone? Other than my dogs and kids? Now I am a travel agent booking shit for my in laws. I love them and I am glad to do it for them, but it is just one more thing that is…expected of me? I am not sure that is the right phrasing, but here I am doing it.
I want to be taken care of for a bit. I need to have surgery. I am thinking that might be my time to be taken care of. Isnt’ that sad? I have to look forward to being diced open for someone to consider me and care for me. I hate feeling like this. I hate it.
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