I am losing my mind.
First of all, I have had to stop taking my Effexor XR. Do I still need it? Of course! My god, that’s obvious with every tear I cry first thing in the morning. However, I am without health insurance and cannot afford the $254.
I am a single mother.
My monthly budget looks like this:
- $560 for C’s school
- $250 student loan (fat lot of good any of those stupid degrees are doing me)
- $28 for my migraine medication
- $380 for my psychologist
- $70 for my psychiatrist
That tallies to about $1,288.
I make about $1,300 a month.
It doesn’t account for diapers, food, wipes, gas. It doesn’t account for clothes C may need.
My life was not supposed to be like this. I did not sign on to be a single mother. I love C, but I don’t know if I could have continued the pregnancy knowing life would be this crappy, this shitty, this much of a pointless struggle.
I have applied unsuccessfully for jobs. Seriously, if you all know of something, let me know. I’m told constantly that I’m a “good candidate” but “we already had someone in mind.”
Why would you interview me if you had someone else in mind? You wasted my damn time.
Anyway…this hurts. B does nothing for us. Nothing.
His parents buy C fancy dresses. How practical.
My parents said that they would pay for C’s school. HA!!! I should have known better. What a lie.
If I ask for help, however, I’ll be dismissed. “you should be able to support yourself.” They’ll say. Even if I present them again with my excel spreadsheet.
And do you know how ashamed I am of myself? How much of a failure I see myself as? I suppose I have too much pride…but it’s embarrassing, it’s shameful, to ask for help.
I dare not ask B’s parents for help. They’d just hold it over me for ever, like I should be eternally grateful and an indentured servant to them.
Of course, they already seem to feel that way now.
I apologize. I hate being so damned negative. My own counseling has got to go, it seems…I’ll talk with my doctors about that, because even though I can exist without food for a while (stupid and bad as that may be, if no one else cares, maybe a skinnier me will wake them up. Passive aggressive? Hell yes. Do I care in my state of anger and depression? Not at the moment, though rest assured, I’m not going to do that. Again.) But…I need to have more money to buy, um, necessities like food. So…counseling has to go.
And I need a new job. With benefits. And a miracle, because that’s what me getting a new job would be: a fucking miracle.
What a bad feminist I am...I have seriously contemplated trying to get a job at the local strip club as a waitress. It seems my body is all I'm valued for...and I'd actually make better money.
*curses our unsupportive society*
Yet I still blame myself...
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