scarlet marked for debt
Today is the last day of the birthday vacation. Was pretty nice in general though there are a few things I still didn’t get done–surprise!
Today I went to the hospital again and came home. Today they tried to once again goad me with going to a therapist which–if you recall any of the mentions of me going to therapy over the past 17 years–usually it involves disaster. Or someone telling me to play the system more than I would even think to–remember the lady a few years back who kept telling me to apply for disability?
Because see, the things I bitch about are not things you should be filing for fucking disability over–I can still walk, talk and write, so disability once would normally presume would come up when or if I was ACTUALLY disabled, but I certainly did not appreciate the doctor telling me that was really my only choice.
Now looking back with that hindsight-maybe she was right. Maybe I should have done that and I would not have quite the debt–but my not-havingness would still be measurable as the same level of nothing.
As it is my little sister is putting an addition onto her home which is probably bigger than my own apartment and still I think…you all live in a far fucking different world from me. Wouldn’t it be nice if I could save anything without the bogeyman coming out to get me? Wouldn’t it be nice to know what it is like to have any savings at all. Wouldn’t it be nice to EVER picture myself with any kind of financial stability that was real? Wouldn’t it be nice to be just a normal person who could do normal shit? What I am really saying is…wouldn’t it be nice to be anyone else?
But I am not. I am scarlet marked for debt. I am scarlet marked as a bad gamble, a wasteful debt, probably an enormous waste of time. I really don’t know what it’s like to have savings. I am serious. NEVER. When I have tried something comes out of the back closet and demands payment. Every time I am scheming to delay this or that or maybe we can get a coupon later or…
I wish sometimes I could get what it was like to not be sick and broke. I watch everyone around me and they seem a fuck of a lot happier than I have been able to be. It makes me feel like an imposter person which is a person I feel like I am often. I do not like being me is the moral of that story.
