Tomorrow is my birthday. And I’m bitter, angry, and frustrated. I’ve been without a job since July 26th. I’m doing my best to keep my shit together and support my family the best way I know how.
I’m tutoring kids and driving for Uber. To most this would sound like a pretty relaxing gig. There’s not a lot of stress involved there, right? Wrong. When Uber brings in only a mere fraction of what I made working for a charter network and my husband isn’t having a lot of luck with his work either, it’s starting to put a strain on things. Major strains in fact.
So far I’ve managed to stay ahead on bills, but the money is starting to run out. Did I mention that my family doesn’t know I’m unemployed, that my previous employer refused unemployment benefits even after they agreed they would pay, we were denied Medicaid benefits, and food stamps. Why am I paying this money into services that when I need them, I’m told no. It doesn’t make any sense. I’m actively trying to find a new job. I have an interview next week for the job I really want, and should know today about another job.
I told my husband last night I felt angry over all this. Of course he got upset with me and said he is doing his best to not get depressed and he can’t have me bringing up shit like that. How am I supposed to vent? How am I supposed to pick myself up when I can’t grieve in a sense? It’s not fair.
My best friend was supposed to come down this weekend, but I told them not to come because of their work schedule. I want to see them. I haven’t seen them in 6 months, but I can’t be selfish and force them to come down and play the “it’s my birthday card.” That’s not in my nature. So I sacrificed what I wanted for them and what they needed. It’s really a typical move for me. I realize that my husband can’t handle any negative stuff, even if I’m just venting to get it out, so it gets bottled back up. I find myself not taking my meds like I should. And reverting back to old ways.
It’s not healthy, and I know this now. The crying urge is a constant feeling these days, but I push pass. Why? Because I don’t have anyone that will support me here. I don’t have a solid ground to stand out. So I make my own solid ground by ignoring what I’m actually feeling and fake it until I make it.
My last day as 33 will be spent like most of my other days in my early adult life, taking care of other people with no one to take care of me.