This is a Really Real Pity Party Post.
Sometimes my financial situation gets to me. Tonight, I was doing the dishes, listening to a podcast that happened to be about plus size fashion, and it hit me.
I’m never going to be able to afford those kinds of clothes!
Don’t get me wrong. I’m thankful to be where I’m at compared to where I was. Three years ago I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to pay the rent each month and I never knew whether I could keep the lights on. Three years before that I was living in a homeless shelter. But even now, I’m getting help to stay afloat. I mostly wonder if I’ll ever be financially independent.
I’m afraid I’ll never be.
But today that wasn’t what bothered me.
I want more than the bare minimum. I want to be that person who can afford to do shit without worrying about it. Today I’m feeling greedy and I’m honestly in tears because I know that even if I get a degree and get a job and get off disability I’m never going to be “wealthy”. I’m always going to struggle. I will be lucky to ever reach middle class.
I’m in a better place than I was, but I still send a frantic text message asking for money when mobility leaves me and I have to take a Lyft, because that $30 just wasn’t in the budget this month.
I’m lucky to have family that helps me out that way, I appreciate that I have the help, but damnit. I don’t want to need the help. I want to be the person in a good enough position that I can hand out help and not think twice about it. I want to be the person with a house and cars and the ability to travel around the world. I want to be able to see places and do things.
I want to be spontaneous in really big ways and not worry that I won’t be able to buy food at the end of the month because of it.
I want more than poverty and for just this moment, I want even more than middle class.
I want more than I’ll ever have, and tonight, I’m having a really hard time with it. Life really dealt me a shitty set of cards and I played them to the best of my ability, but that doesn’t change where I’m at.
Normally I don’t care about money, so I’m not sure why I’m so upset about it tonight. I’m not sure why it’s such a big deal right now.
It would be nice to live that life though.
And it would have been even nicer to have a life that would have allowed me to get there.
4 thoughts on “Poor Me”
Omg, girl. I know what you mean. My breakdown put me in debt, living with my parents (I’m 42!) and financially a mess. I work with women who wear designer clothes and recommend $75 moisturizers to eachother (they’ve stopped recommending them to me). And like you, I’m so much better off than I was 2 years ago, but I know I’ll never be able to go into a store and just spontaneously purchase a $75 bottle of lotion. And I’m still (even with a good job) heavily dependent on others to keep me afloat because of my medical bills and other debt due to my illness. I get down on myself so bad about this. All we can do is keep pushing along. Keep working on self care. And at some point, when we can, set and work toward the goal of financial independence. Sending love.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for the words of solidarity. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.
That’s why I blog too. It’s so hard when everyone in your real life seems to have it together. We need to know we aren’t anomalies. ❤️
I know exactly what you mean. I console myself that as long as my finances stay as they are, in 10 years I will have paid off all my debt and be able to afford a holiday
LikeLiked by 1 person