This is something I was NEVER allowed to do. Raised by an African American Southern grandmother, this was forbidden. I am the eldest of the second generation of my immediate family that once comprised of my grandmother, three uncles (one who was in Willowbrook due to severe cerebral palsy) and my estranged mother; they are all deceased now. As the eldest of this generation, I was required to be the built-in babysitter to my elders children. This started at the age of 13, in my assignment as the built-in babysitter, I was responsible for the care of eight other grandchildren sometimes from newborn. I had to cook, clean, make bottles (that’s back in the day when you had to sterilize bottles and nipples), give baths, wipe noses, offer discipline, etc. They’re all grown now, never sent a card, not a birthday salutation, nothing. During this time, I had my own at the age of 17; I guess I was the mother in training; they taught me to cook at 11. This was done without so much as a birthday card, gift a thank you note, couldn’t even get picked up in the dirty company van to go do my job. When I had my own, I was outcast unless it was to babysit. As I previously noted being raised to not ask anyone for anything and being told that I would be like someone else referred to as a slut, I decided that I had to prove to this elder. I graduated high school, the next week I went to enroll in community college. I came home from registration and asked for help with books as I was only partially financed; no one had money for books, for whatever else but not books. Still, my on my quest to show and prove, I went out and got two jobs. I was not getting any child support; I was an abused baby’s mother as a teen and someone gave the father of my son something to smoke that rendered him a crazy person who I avoided at all costs. Over the years I had various jobs, once worked at National Westminster Bank, worked Christmas jobs at Gimble’s, A & S and then Macy’s to take care of mine. I was also left responsible (out of love) to care for my grandmother since immediate family members running from their demons decided to move upstate; I was left alone, with my son to handle this, alone. When she became terminally ill and having been raised as her daughter, I was the proxy and then later the guardian to make medical decisions and the one left to pay her rent, my rent, her landline, my bills without any assistance because upstate did not want her to die in a nursing home, I was not to let go of her apartment. She was admitted there for occupational therapy short-term but immediately upon admission contracted MERSA; she was not ever coming back to her apartment. I was working for a private university earning good money, had good benefits including tuition remission. I had to apply for FMLA to care for her since I had to take off frequently. I was never trained to handle the bedridden and as a Southern woman, her privates were between her and me, no strangers to ever go there; I took care of her not knowing that I was exacerbating Anterolithesis. I also developed disc bulges from L3-S1 on top of already having stage 3 Endometriosis, Adenomyosis, Fibroids and cysts due to the Endo. For seven months sans two day for the flu, I was there, no one else; her hair was done, her diapers were changed, she had a wardrobe for doctor’s visits outside of the Home and Hospital. As she was terminal and everyone else was Upstate living their lives from work and the Home and Hospital, I had to go and pack her apartment up, alone. When she passed, they came from Upstate with gas money to go back. I took out a loan from my term insurance policy to cover the excess that her whole life policies did not cover to buy the spray for the cremation coffin, buy the bleeding heart, pay for the limousine, pay for the new undergarments as required in my state and her dress. Her brother-in-law and younger sister paid for the urn. I was given by her apartment manager 14 days from the date of death to clear the apartment; I had to pay for U-Hauls, one local and one for one-way Upstate, for this I got a thank you. Later on, soon after she passed, I had to get Epidurals for Spondylolithesis, Spondylosis, and Arthritis regularly, now I had to put in for FMLA for myself. When I took off from work for me now, anything outside of the aforementioned treatment, I was not allowed my the management to use vacation time. I decided that I not only needed to get away from them but I needed a Bachelor’s degree to do so, this required me to apply for FAFSA because I was denied use of the time I accrued for treatment or anything else. I was already suffering simultaneously with Endo, etc. suffering weeks on end instead of the normal one week out of the month and I had to get an emergency Hysterotomy; I was terminated on 02/17/2016, the day before my birthday, was it not personal? Since I was not able to cover the car note for my 2002 car bought to take care of my now deceased parent, I was not able to pay rent in full; I was without a full paycheck regularly and FAFSA was per semester, of course. I was evicted not once but twice and even after the judge told them not to remove my things, they did anyway costing me $2800, broken furniture, destroyed mementos, etc. I had no recourse since they made me sign a waiver not to sue just so I could have a roof over my head. As you have not read about any man, they were as follows: #1- Gave me a fake engagement ring and made babies while I lived in his home with my son. I moved back home. #2- I will refer to as a buildabear, he came with an S curl and motorcycle boots, once he was upgraded by me, he joined a multiple centuries old fraternity, got a groupie who called my job threatening me, drove near my apartment even when he was here on his own accord, she even called me from Rye, NY during the convention that he took her to while he slept next to her. #3- A younger intellectual with a six- figure job who was generous with going out but later lied and said he was going back to China to teach English as he used to so that he could travel cheaply. #4- Someone totally different, no yelling, no cursing, no cheating; a book worm but he had baggage that superseded “girlfriend” also not affectionate, romantic. COVID-19 came without one visit from him, the texts stopped and the calls stopped, fine with me. #5- Most recently…six years older than me, said he was retiring and was looking for a wife to relocate to another state, personable, charming, we talked about everything, laughed, danced in the living room just the two of us, competed for who had the oldest R&B songs had similar family origins but found he’s a player, wanted to talk to his Ex while he was in my place with me. I am now facing eviction again. The 2002 just cost me $638.10 for struts, now the valve gasket is leaking oil. I enrolled with a service to fix my credit because I had aspirations of leaving here, going to a place where there are no sirens constantly blaring outside the kitchen window, no trucks up and down the street constantly, no idiots riding ATVs up and down the avenue, no one banging over my head all times a day and night because they don’t know how to raise children to learn behavior or manners at home, not having to put down Boric Acid and sugar ( I am anally clean; I mop walls) to keep the roaches out, these young kids with BMW and Mercedes without any driving experience driving with their own rules, everybody wear eyelashes everyday and long fake nails, even the teenagers, dressing as if they are grown women, living someplace where I don’t have to report any extra income for them to raise the rent while the Escucheon pipe over the commode is leaking someone else’s urine down over the commode here and the space saver that I bought, while not fixing peeling walls that I cover with cheap paint but they can come and inspect without any prior notice and threaten to terminate your lease if you are unavailable. I thought I would move and be able to get a townhouse in another affordable, clean state, I’m over this one even though I was born and bred her; it’s so saturated, a former shopping area now has nothing but high- rise luxury rentals just like the next borough, with a piece of outdoor space to sit and have a glass of wine. I work but where I work there is a clique from a certain region who only looks out for those from the same region (they’re the only ones with the management jobs) where they deliver barrels to or close thereby but they are always sending some damned inclusion and diversity e-mails. I have applied twice for a position that I have 24 years experience, setting up practices, doing credentialing, filling out DEA applications and two well- known University degrees (one I owe 12 credits for, couldn’t finish due to bleeding through my clothes for weeks) but I am not from their region and I am still provisional with a passing test score but no list number. I didn’t mention that during the time of #2 my son joined a “colorful” “brotherhood” where he got into $50K trouble that I paid for with blood sweat and tears to pay for an Esquire on Court Street (worked nights, weekends to pay her), no one came to Supreme Court with me for support; every one is busy. He’s good now, someone to be proud to have as a son and a father. I have no one and no place to go. I need help before I’m in the street contracting COVID-19 or sleeping in my car again because a hotel room here is hundreds of dollars per night. I can’t pay a $44K student loan that is now $50K, I can’t pay back the two one- shot- deals from welfare, I can’t even pay back my loan that was $4K and is now $20K from my insurance company . I don’t live, I exist, I work to have a cell phone, a car to get to work twice a week (I telecommute the other three- employee staggered schedule), cable and Internet to keep me company and to work to get their claims paid. My primary tells me that I am functionally depressed, I can go to work, I can smile, I can be witty, I can be helpful, share information, I can do my tasks but when I come in this apartment all I think about is being evicted, a negative checking account balance every pay period, the two credit cards that I cannot use, the car needing repair all of the time recently, why these men treat me the way they feel to when I demand respect and carry myself as a Southern woman taught me to. I am monogamous by choice due to self- respect, I am not casual. #5- got his uniforms washed when he came here, had his food and drink brought to him and his plate washed but he has to talk to his Ex, take her to get a new lease, a car alarm, use her car for work because he’s not driving his $60K truck to work but he was coming “home” to me every night where he was platonic since he’s aching in between, even went to the VA for it. She did so much for him when his father was sick and in the nursing home. I don’t want a man, tired of the bulls**t. I inherited my grandmother’s body (built like someone who has Cushing Syndrome while my mother’s daughters are like Jessica Rabbit). According to the plastic surgeon that I paid a consultation fee to who says he is not a chop shop, I need a tummy tuck and it does affect my back. I can’t even fix that because I’m not eating and according to the surgeon I am fooling my body to think I am starving and the fat does not go away but accumulates for energy, geeze! My soul is aching. I have been there for everyone in my life but no one is around for me, ever. I just had someone ask me if I could order something for the from door dasher that I don’t even know how to use and I did it. Who said I had money to buy you a meal? I am not on Facebook; my mother’s sperm donor’s family found me via Facebook. I don’t have any desire to know them, his mother in all of her Dominican-ness in 1965 told family court judge that she did not want any nigger children and shipped him to the next coast where he got married and I have a brother just a year younger than I am, no thanks. I am not on Instagram or any of that, not interested. Please someone help me. I can’t even take all of the 30 Methocarbomol; would not be classified as an accidental overdose so my son would not get what’s left of my term policy. If someone has it in their heart to help me to live a life and not just exist with all that is going on, I’m done. All I need is a chance to live. I am humiliated and embarrassed that my life has turned out this way, I have worked very hard, alone being mother and father and primary provider all of the time. Thirty years ago, you would not be able to ell me that I wouldn’t be married and living in a nice place, God gave me the opposite. I have been in here for weekends at a time and my phone had not rang once unless it was some solicitor for car warranty. If I don’t get any help, I know that there are others who are worse off than I am and need help as well. I just want a life be able to smile once in a while outside of work. Thank you for your time.