I don’t know that I belong here. Where I’m at is my own fault.
I’m 42 and a mom of a sweet, rambunctious little girl who was recently diagnosed with adhd. Not a huge deal, a large percentage of children and adults have it. When she was 3 my father died. I became depressed, more so than usual, and anxious, more so than usual. My dad was my best friend and was quickly becoming hers as well. Then he died suddenly in the hospital from a stroke, across the state while visiting his sister. I spent 2 weeks handling everything from this small south Texas town and away from my daughter. When I got home, I then had to travel every other weekend to his home in a small north Texas town to clear out his home, the home we had lived in since I was 10. It was hard. At first, the house still smelled like his aftershave, and had a warm feeling as if he had just stepped out, but slowly it turned dark and unlived in. I couldn’t mentally handle the frequent trips anymore and my family was of zero help. The disregarded the fact that I too had a family and job and life. They left it all to me to handle and I felt more alone than I ever had before. The one person I WOULD have talked about it to was dead now. I had no one. I sold the house and most of the furniture and belongings in it. I felt like I had abandoned him. He didn’t want that house sold. He had built it for us, his family. The money went into trust for the grandchildren, there wasn’t much, but I was thankful for it and now my daughter has a start to college fund that can increase over time.
And now? Now I’m overweight and unhappy. COVID happened and my 40 hour job suddenly became a 20 hour a week contract position and I was barely getting bills paid. So, I opened a credit card. Just for emergencies, I told myself. But as my hours remained decreased, working from home was causing electric bills, food bills, water bills to increase. Suddenly emergencies were popping up. My car needed new brakes, my daughter was in virtual school and needed materials for that. Supplies were not returned from the school because they had hopes that the kids would be back soon. It didn’t happen. She had no math book, it was all in short 15 minute Zoom meetings and she was quickly and quietly falling behind. “Don’t worry, ALL children are in the same position”. No. I had to do everything in my power. I bought workbooks and activities to try and entice her to learn, to WANT to learn, but she couldn’t care less. And honestly, I didn’t blame her. She wanted to be with her friends.
Meanwhile our 20 hours were bumped up to 30, but our office had to move and now the commute was twice as long, gas prices are going up, cost of living is going up. Get a second credit card, that will help. Just for now and just for emergencies.
Then I got sick. Test after test and they couldn’t figure it out. I had polyps in my uterus and the doctor recommended an ablation. Done. And so is my ability to carry any more children. Still in pain, that was not what was wrong. Another surgery, this time my gallbladder. Now its out, medical costs get paid for with….yes, the credit card. Insurance covered some, but not all. So now the credit cards are full, and the pain persists. More doctors’ visits on the horizon, but it all seems helpless. Hopeless. No one seems to care about me or listen to me.
Today, we are back to 40 hours, commute is still twice as long and gas prices are still steadily climbing, credit cards get paid, but usually the minimum amount and I know it should be more, but there is no more. It becomes overwhelming. Everything is building up and one day it will all topple in and I’ll be at the bottom, under the rubble. The one thing that keeps me going is my little girl. I put a smile on my face even if there isn’t one in my heart and I do my best every day to make each day the very best for her. So, like I said, I am not in a position that I didn’t bring on myself, but it would be great if when I extended out my hand there would be someone to help.
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