I’m not strong enough, smart enough or even remotely capable of caring anymore. An hour ago I quit. I quit caring and I quit trying. I bust my ass off and for what? More debt, more collection notices, more sadness, more hopelessness. And the wonder support I get? Yeah that equals to “You need to take responsibility” what.the.ever.lovin’.eff.
Yes, because I sit here blaming everyone and their mom for MY problems. Jesus. I take on so much responsibility I forget to make me a damn responsibility.
I don’t cry all night trying to figure out how I’m going to make it til payday or crying because I can’t help my son from hurting. I can’t sleep because I’m constantly worrying is this the day we are going to be kicked out or are the lights going to be shut off? Why the fuck wasn’t I smart enough to get gap insurance on my jeep. Yep, that’s right, Roxy got stolen and I just didn’t want to say another damn thing has happened to me.
Oh the great great piece of advice I got today… “Find another job.” Yes because finding a job that pays me what I am currently receiving and being able to work from home is such an easy thing to find. Why the hell didn’t I think of that?
Sometimes I wish those pills would have done more damage when I was 15.