Two more days, and then Thanksgiving. My husband and I declined an invitation to visit his dysfunctional family. It is an hour drive, all to stuff food and negative conversations into our stomachs and minds. With one economic and personal crisis after another closing in, our lives are in shambles. Even the gas prices to hit the road for an obligatory visit, are too much. Bringing something to drink, contributing food…it all adds up and we can’t afford the cost, emotionally or financially.  Also, this crowd eats as though every meal is their last. I savor each bite. They are clobbering the dessert before I am done with my dinner roll. The conversation is bland, boring and mundane. They work in finance; they are rich. Just can’t seem to “get” what we’re going through. Not even a little. Why should they care? Whoever said charity begins at home obviously never imagined my husband’s family or mine.
Better to keep our cat company and have soup and sandwiches as we welcome time together, long walks, watching movies and trying to mend a marriage that simply doesn’t have time or energy for intimacy. The house needs to be cleaned; that takes time I don’t have anymore. What fun. We are broken. Every day this week I have had a good cry. I have chronic insomnia. Working to prepare the yard for winter is debilitating; we used to do that together. Now, that isn’t an option. Last night I woke up after two hours of sleep. Shaking, my pulse too high, my stomach in knots. My husband just bought his fourth bottle of nyquil; he has a horrible, hacking cough. Immune systems tend to go when bodies are always on high alert, physically and mentally.
After being laid off two years ago, collecting unemployment, we barely kept our home, while trying to pay off debt and our mortgage. Then, after undervaluing our abilities, we work a minimum of nine hours daily just to make a little bit more than unemployment paid. While treading water, waiting for the economy to return to some sort of stability, the wait is over. It isn’t going to happen.
Things won’t get better. Our government is as dysfunctional as our families. Whatever happened to ethical considerations and humanity? A bunch of suits cannot agree, while the majority of people are busy trying to catch a break; instead we have a tsunami of oppressive problems which are all related to dollars and nonsense. While we suffer, the jerks we elected to represent us in Washington are making money off of our backs and coming up with more bad decisions and gridlock. Flash to Thanksgiving for them; all off to what I can only imagine is a feast worthy of Martha Stewart. No “thanks” to them, for coming up with absolutely no comprehensive solutions for this horrible mess.
While my sister just bought a compound with several homes for “our” extended family (I have been exiled from their oppressive presence), my brother owns two houses (no wife, no kids), another sister has a vacation home & owns a house in one of the most high priced zip codes in the country, another multi-millionaire sister lives in a gated community. My mother resides in a five star retirement community. No, they could care less. No, we have done nothing that would engender their lack of attention to our nightmare.
I share a small bungalow with my husband when we downsized nine years ago. In our fifties, it was time to ditch the huge colonial house in an expensive east coast city. The little house we made just right for us when we had enough money to do so, is now a burden. We have no health insurance, and we do have health problems. I’m an expert on cutting back, and not a consumer glutton, nor have I ever been. That’s why I saved so much for my retirement.
Good-bye to that. Once it was cut in half by the recession (let’s call it what is is…a depression), it’s been used for major expenses; cars break, appliances have to be replaced, etc. etc. That money is being depleted, and going forward? There’s no forward there. Suicide? It’s never off the table. Nothing is on the table and newsflash…my story is no different than many others. I’m just saying….
2 comments
I know the feeling of failure. It’s an awful one. I feel in someway that my mistake will probably affect me in way I never though of. I guess, we need to hang in there. Perhaps, there’s still hope and light after the darkness.
I understand. I’m sort of wearing the same shoes as you ( my family however is not well off but distant and selfish )
on top of being broke and looking at homelessness literally in the next few weeks I am also disabled with a progressive illness .
Nor have I a partner ( seems people don’t tend to stick around when you get ill ) . A gift you may want to look at. At the very least ? Your not alone.