Tag: stress

We don’t talk about money. Be poor privately please.

Why are the poor poor? Not how did they become poor, but why are they still poor. Have you ever ask yourself that? If you are, or have been, you know why.

Based on the posts I see on social media, the reason is, because that person is either: lazy, entitled, or makes poor choices. Are there lazy and entitled people? Sure there are. But I guarantee 99% of poor people work 10 times as hard as a financially stable person. Their life depends on it. And there are a lot of people that make poor choices, I being one of them. But unless your poor choice is gambling away your family savings or working for the mob, most poor people’s bad choices are buying a pair of jeans or going out for drinks. Not quite what I would consider worthy of a lifetime struggle to provide for your family.

Why am I bringing this up? Because I’m a poor person trying very hard to obtain what others tell me I could get if I just worked harder. I’m trying reach that goal you told me I’m not entitled to, that I have to work for. What is that goal? To have a place to live of my own and to be able to feed my children and pay my bills without worry or anxiety.

I receive SNAP. Because I’m below the poverty line. Does that make you uncomfortable? If you don’t know me I’m sure it doesn’t. If you know me personally I’m sure you feel quite uncomfortable knowing that about me. I once had a family member harass me on a Facebook post. He was convinced that the reason I am struggling HAS TO BE because I deserve it. I’m an entitled millennial who wants everything handed to me. I deleted him off my Facebook and had myself a good cry. Where has he been the last 10 years? I am not a quiet person. I do not bottle things inside. I am very honest and open about the good and the bad in my life. Why is my struggle making him so angry? It’s my struggle. I’m not angry. I love sharing my struggle so that others can know and feel hopeful. He was legitimately angry. Zero compassion.

Then someone said something to me that put it in perspective. “Of course he is angry. And of course he is blaming you. Because if he admits you’ve done everything you were supposed to and you are a good person, and are still suffering, then he would have to also admit that he stood by as you suffered for years and never offered you a hand of help.”

Holy crap. I used to always wonder why we didn’t talk about money. From a young age it was instilled in me that you never ask how much someone makes. And you don’t talk about how much you make. I remember asking, why we can’t talk about it. I was told it was because people that don’t make as much might get jealous and angry. It was to protect those who deserve their income from people who didn’t deserve it and wanted it.

Poor people don’t care if you know how much they make. I’ve had perfect strangers mention how much their check was in casual conversation. Poor people are not uncomfortable with talking about money. Whatevs. I’m broke but I needed some Chipotle. See, every single thing we do revolves around money. Like, if I buy the good toilet paper, will I have the gas to get my kids to school? Which bill can I be late on so I can replace my kids ripped school pants? We’re not handling our money with our sights set on vacation spots or the best investments. We’re trying to find a way to make sure we don’t have to eat peanut butter and jelly or cereal for dinner for the next week.

You know what would save me a lot of money? Being able to buy a house. My entire life has been at a standstill for the last year because the house I live in is unlivable. If I move my rent will be double to triple what it is now. It is not possible.

Poor people can’t buy houses. Not because they can’t afford them. Because the system is set up in a way to keep them poor.

I do not have a great credit score. To even have a chance at obtaining a mortgage I need 10% down. So let’s say I work for that goal. The houses in my area that I would be ideal for my family are about $150,000. But I don’t need ideal. I’m sure if I looked around and waited I could find something that makes do for about $100,000. So I need $10,000 to buy a house. With my current income I know I could save $100 a month. So that means in 8 years I could buy a house. If I lived extra poor I could probably save $200 a month. Then I could buy a house in 4 years. Do you see the problem? That means I still have to live in this shithole house with my four children until they are raised.

Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that I can save $500 a month. That’s only a year and a half. Buuuuuut. I receive Food Stamps. About $500 a month. And the second my assets exceed $2,250, I do not qualify anymore. So 5 months in, I wouldn’t be able to afford to save anymore. (2 years into my 8, 1 year onto my 4).

Why are the poor poor? Because unless someone steps in and knocks down the societal hurdles, we don’t have a choice. Why do poor people buy lottery tickets? Because there’s a better chance of winning the money to help pull them out of poverty than there is to do it by hard work. Why do the poor buy cups of coffee and get tattoos instead of saving? Because what’s the point? Do you have any idea how helpless that feeling is? Then you feel guilty and ashamed when judgmental eyes look at your $50 tattoo and tell you that THAT is the reason you and your children deserve to suffer. You feel like you need to justify the $10 Goodwill Coach purse you carry because others see it and believe you’re exaggerating your circumstance. You’re either lying, or deserve it.

The rich want to believe that the poor are poor because they deserve it. Because if they acknowledged what it really is, they also have to admit that they’re okay with thriving while others are unfairly suffering. And that makes them uncomfortable. So it’s easier to just blame.

I am poor. My kids play sports, go to a private school, have new clothes and shoes at the beginning of the school year, and none of it was provided by me. Because I have people in my life that saw the value of my children and said, “I want to help”. My eyes swell up with tears when I think about what I would do if I didn’t have kind people in my life. Because I know you’re out there. All you that are suffering without a support system. I want to help you so bad. I want somebody to help you. I feel your pain, I feel your anxiety. I am so sorry we live in a country where you are demonized and told you deserve to suffer. You do not deserve to suffer. Your kids do not deserve to suffer. You deserve so mich better than this.

Why are the poor poor? If you are not poor, you need to be okay with being uncomfortable and do something. You need to stop blaming and start asking how you can help. Perpetual poverty happens when you can’t afford the necessities. Do you feel the Necessities in life a privilege or a right? Do you believe that someone’s financial circumstance equates their worth? Your complacency is hurting people.

Indulge in Actual Self-Care

My kids go to a private school. I will admit openly and honestly, that there is no way in hell I could afford to send them there on my own. If it weren’t for financial assistance from the school, and donations from people, they would not go there.

Each year, I have to fill out my paperwork verifying my income. Guess what I didn’t do last year. My paperwork. So, I was charged full tuition. Yeah. I can’t afford it. I am now at a point where my kids need to register again. And I have literally paid nothing on this current year. This is a lingering stress that I keep putting off.

Why the hell do I keep putting this off? My kids have been at this school since they started preschool! The school knows us. They know our story. They know our background. For fricks sake, it’s where I graduated from and where my mom graduated from! Why don’t I just go down there and talk to them? They always find a way.

Why? Because I’m a coward. And I know I’m not the only one who does this. We ignore these lingering stresses and hope they just go away. Stop real quick and think, what is that thing I’m putting off? I bet the moment it popped in your head, your stomach sank.

In Beth fashion, I now want to change subjects (spoiler…they are connected).

Self care vs. Self indulgence. 

I get on social media and I see these posts about taking care of ourselves. People taking bubble baths, eating their favorite comfort foods, or splurging on a new outfit. All things I have done. All things I enjoy. But those things are not self care. They are self indulgent. And that’s ok with moderation. Who doesn’t love turning the world off and making yourself feel good? But, again, not self care. I see them more as relaxing techniques to prepare your the actual care you need to do as an adult, or a reward once you’ve completed your daily duties.

That stress in the pit of your stomach will not be cared for because you lit candles and soaked in a bath. You know what will make it go away? Paying that bill that’s past due. Those comfort foods will not cause you to feel less overwhelmed. But you know what will? Sorting that stack of papers and mail that are consuming your table. Binge-watching Netflix will not lessen your anxiety about the next week, but you know what will? Making those appointments and phone calls you need to make.

We feel bad not doing what we’re supposed to. We seek ways to make ourselves feel better. We justify these things to ourselves and wait for the relief to come. It doesn’t come. The stress and anxiety does not lessen. Adulthood sucks sometimes. I get no credit when I pay bills or I clean my house. But you better believe the shit will hit the fan if I don’t.

We need to acknowledge our self indulgence for what it is. It’s our internal reward for having to do shitty grown up stuff. Quit treating it as self care. Don’t get me wrong, I am supportive of an amount of self indulgence. Buy that handbag. Sit in your PJs all day and do nothing….after you take care of yourself. Self indulgent behavior will leave you feeling empty and more stressed otherwise. We HAVE TO take care of those lingering responsibilities first. THAT is true self care. You know how you can tell? Because you feel accomplished.

Back to the school thing. The other day, I decided to get a sandwich at a restaurant I hadn’t been to in a long time. I sat down at the booth, and looked up. Two booths away was the head of the school’s business office. Shear and utter panic came over me. *Oh shit. Oh shit. I’ve been ignoring his emails. I haven’t called him. Oh frick…he saw me. He’s coming over*

You know what happened? I told him I was sorry. I was being a coward about it. I didn’t know what to do, so I did nothing. He told me he just wanted to make sure we did what we needed so the kids could be registered. We set up an appointment to talk. He left the table, and for the first time since last fall, I felt like I could breathe. It was that easy. I have been living with this underlying stress for MONTHS and now, all of a sudden, it was gone.

Self care. If I really wanted to relieve my anxiety and calm my nerves, I should have sat down and done this on my own. Those “lazy days” and self indulgent attempts at calming my nerves did nothing but give me guilt over putting off my adult responsibility. 

You guys, make that phone call. Pay that bill. Clean the fridge out. Do that thing that is stressing you. And then, when it’s all done, go buy yourself and ice cream cone as a reward. Because adulthood does suck sometimes.

I Have Better Balance with a Net

I have written before about my months being “homeless”. For those who haven’t read about my time without a home, I would like to stress, I was not on the street, and it was one of the best experiences of my life. I miss it. I have found myself, for the last few months, trying to recreate those couple months of my life. Only this time, I am trying to do it on my own. It’s not working.

I try to be a problem solver about these type things. I need to figure out why living in someone’s basement, with 3 times the amount of people, only about 10% of my possessions, was more peaceful and encouraging than what I am doing now. I still work the same places. I still have bills. I still have children. What is the variable in all this?

Last week I was talking to my mom. Just normal mother daughter stuff. I was telling her how sick of surviving I was. That I wish I could just go out and take chances and do things. It’s not fair. I was telling her about how I wished I was naive to the world. That I was wished that I could just be stupid. Some people I meet are so dumb, yet so successful. I’ve talked to people before and thought, how do you make so much more than me? You, my friend, are an idiot. Why can’t I just be like that? See, the problem is, I know where I lack. I know there is so much more to things than we originally see. I feel small when I think about how much there is to learn, how much life I have not seen. How complex the inner workings of each human encounter and situation is. It’s overwhelming sometimes. I want to not be self aware. I want to just think I can do something, and be so confident, that everyone around me just believes I can too. How can I just block out the part of me that knows my pit falls?

I told my mom what a Debbie Downer I was. People give me such great solutions, “you should just…. why don’t you just….if I were you I would just….” And I find holes in their logic every time. I sound like I’m making excuses. People assume I am not really looking for a solution. How do I just block out that part of me that dissects every aspect of other’s suggestions? My mom said, you can’t block that out. You don’t have a safety net. Some people have no idea what it’s like to live their life without a safety net.

My mind immediately went into visual mode. I imagined walking on a high wire, with no net. I could feel the anxiety. My pace would be slow and precise. I would be focusing on each step, my breathing, and be preparing myself to squat down and hold the rope if need be. Then I imagined myself doing the same thing with a net. While I would still be trying to keep my balance, I would not have anxiety. I would be watching the finish line, not my feet. My pace would be quicker, and I wouldn’t be concerned with worrying about grabbing on. Worst case, I may have to start again. But I wouldn’t be injured. It would be a set back, but not devastating.

So what does it feel like to not have a net in the real world? Well, first off, you have to assume it’s only you. You can hope for help with things, but never assume. YOU will have to clean, cook, work, drive, plan, tend to the kids, take care of yourself, and make sure things are done in a way you are not setting yourself up for trouble later. Sounds a lot like every day life….except you need to add the anxiety of not having anyone there to help. You need to remember that one little overlook could set you back for a long time. You start saying no to everything. You’re so worried about one foot in front of the other, even if there is something that could help you down the road, you do not have the ability to look up from your own feet. You miss out on things that could help you, or chose not to take risks that would benefit you, because it’s too much of a gamble. You can’t concern yourself with “making the most” of anything. Your job is to just survive and get through it.

Now, add in the spectators. Those who are watching you, and see what you’re missing. Yelling “don’t do that!” Or “I can’t believe you missed that!” Try to block them out. Yes, they have a better view of the big picture. From where they’re standing, they can give all the right advice. But they are not up on the wire with you. They can’t feel how much give is left in it, or how tired or weak you feel. They are not going to catch you if you fall, and you don’t expect them to risk themselves to try to. You just take a step at a time, and rest when you need to.

Now, back to living with the Collins family. It was the first time in years I felt safe. They had given me a net. They didn’t take away had I had to do in life, they simply gave me the ability to not just survive it. Their cheers from below were reminders that if I fell, they would help me back up on the wire. They took the anxiety away. I was able to look up and actually make decisions for my life.

So I’m back without a net. It is what it is. I now know, I need to make my own net. While I was so graciously allowed to borrow theirs for a short time, it is theirs. They need it for their family, and their own life challenges. So that is what I need to do now. I need to take a break from the task at hand and figure out how to make a net for myself and my family, so that I can progress forward in life. What will that net be? Saving money? A higher education? Making connections and finding resources? I don’t know yet. Right now I feel like my task is untangling the knotted material that could be my net. Look at what I have to use, and figure out how to make it work.

For those out there with a net. When you see someone that seems to be struggling with something that seems to have a simple solution, ask yoursef: If I didn’t have my spouse, my savings, my degree, my connections and life experiences, or my plan b, what would I do? If you have the ability to offer your net temporarily, do it. If you can help with the tangled mess they have so they can make their own net, even better.

For those with no net. You are not alone. Don’t ever let others make you feel bad about how your are walking the wire. There are those who see your struggle and want to help. Take one step at a time and rest when you need to. It may seem hopeless, the end may seem too far to ever reach. You may have to just stop, hold on, and cry. Do it. You’re the one up there, you’re the one that knows your limits and all you have to lose if you take a wrong step. And I will try to be a cheerleader for you. I will try to offer a net when I can. You, my friend, have my deepest admiration for having to go through life with the added anxiety and fear others don’t have to experience. You are not weak or stupid. You are stronger and more self aware than most, and you need to know that about yourself.

Yeah, Yeah, I’m so Stong. Like I Have a Choice

Oh, death. We have become far too familiar.  For any of you that didn’t know, my brother died tragically in an accident on February 24, 2015. I sat in my car, reading and rereading the message. I HAVE to be reading this wrong. there is no way. I just saw him at our dad’s funeral just a couple months before. We had just talked on Facebook. This can’t be real. I started shaking and called my mom. We sat together sobbing and holding each other. Is this some kind of sick joke? How much can one family handle? When can the sorrow and pain stop?

I would say, across the board, the response from those in our lives was a pretty consistent, “You have got to be shitting me” followed by, “Are you fucking serious?” with a few, “What. The. Actual. Fuck.” Even our more uptight, conservative friends and family found themselves only able to convey their complete shock without the added profanity. Which I was actually quite grateful for, because seriously. What the fuck.

After the denial was unable to stay, and the overwhelming sadness took a brief break, I found myself angry. Very, very angry. At Matthew, at my dad, at death, and at the world in general. How could they just die? How could they leave us? It’s kind of ridiculous to be angry at the deceased. They didn’t choose it. But I still was. I wanted to yell at my dad for not being here. For leaving right before something so tragic happened. I wanted to yell at him for leaving my mom without her rock. For her to have to grieve this without him. I wanted to yell at my brother for leaving his children. I wanted to scream at him that he was such a jerk for talking with me about coming to Germany to see him and the kids and then leaving before I could. I wanted to cry and yell at them both for dying so close together. I wasn’t done grieving dad, Matthew! He’s suppose to have my grief right now! Not you! I want to be able to grieve Matt, Dad! Why did you have to die first? Now he won’t get the grief he deserves!

Stupid, huh? To be so mad at them? Well, I know it’s not really anger. It’s immense sadness. These were two people I loved dearly. I want their lives to be seen, thought of, and missed individually. I don’t want their deaths to be lumped together. I don’t want them to have to share in this time, even if it’s a horrible time. It SHOULD be separate.

So, after I had my internal emotional temper tantrum, I just accepted it. I say just, but in all reality, this is not an “I just..” type thing. What other choice to you have but to accept it? It’s not like it’s a decision you make. Well, I guess I could opt for going completely crazy, but that being the only alternative kind of decides that acceptance is really the only choice in the matter. So now what? Time to start the grief process over again.

I would like to share with any of you readers a little insight to multiple losses. This is something I was not aware of until the last couple weeks. You are only aloud one large loss a year. More than that, and you will be treated as if you have an infectious disease. For all of my loved ones reading this, please do not take this personal. I do appreciate the support, but it is different. And, I too am guilty of avoidance in similar situations. It just is what it is.

The first loss, you will have an outpouring of support. People will send flowers. They will cook meals. They will accommodate you missing work. They will hold you and tell you, “You grieve however you need to. There is no wrong way.” Then, a small amount of time goes by, and BAM. You’re hit with another death in your family. But this time it’s different. You receive texts, Facebook messages, encouraging photos, and then it’s done. You’re expected to snap back quicker this time. You put a smile on you face, and respond with a well rehearsed, “We’re hanging in there.” or “Yeah, our family has had a lot thrown at us, but we’ll get through.” While you’re really thinking, “I’m not ok and I hate that I have to pretend that we’re all so fucking strong all the time.”

I started wondering why this was. I was very honest about things after my dad died. I would just say, “My kids are late to school because I can’t sleep at night, and when I finally do fall asleep at 3am, my body doesn’t wake up.” and “I can barely remember to brush my teeth in the morning, so I’m sorry I forgot her permission slip, can I have another one?” and “No, I haven’t checked my email. I am overwhelmed and have no desire for human interaction at the moment. Please be patient with me, I am trying to function normally again.” No one want’s to hear that after the second death. Because life goes on. People keep living, and the time allotted to you for grief has expired.

I don’t want people to avoid me. That’s what it comes down to. We hear SO much to “cut the negative out of our life”. I don’t want to be cut out of people’s lives. What a line of horse shit. All those who are “cutting the negative” are cutting out my family and me. We need to cut out the toxic people in our life, yes, but not the negative. Life is so full of positive and negative. People feel uncomfortable around someone who is wounded. I do. I am such a coward. I do not deal well with death, divorce, illness, etc. And it’s not because I don’t care. On the contrary. I hate seeing someone I love or care about hurt, and not know how to fix it. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do. So I avoid. And I’m here to tell you, now being on the receiving end of the avoidance, it freaking sucks. So, I act. I change the subject when I can tell my sadness is making the other person uncomfortable. I laugh, and smile, and make jokes as much as I can, so people can feel at ease. It let’s them take a deep breathe and not feel like they need to walk on eggshells around me, and avoid being with me.

People keep saying, “If you need anything, let me know!” Well folks, even though I know that’s just what you say whether you mean it or not, I am going to tell you what I need. I need people to take charge for me. I feel alone, and I want to be with people. I just can’t seem to get my shit together. I need people to let me say stupid stuff without feeling offended. I need to be able to say overly depressing things and not be met with a subject change or you leaving. Most the time, I’ve just been holding it in too long, and it comes out all wrong. I need people to treat me the same as before. For god’s sake. Make jokes with me. Plan things with me and then harass me to death about remembering it, because I will forget. I need you to cut me some slack with, well, everything. I know this is a temporary state I’m in. I’m just trying figure out what and how much I am able to handle. You see, I do like to help. I do like to do things, be in charge of things, and be counted on for things. The problem is, I will be fine one min, and then it all just hits me. I will drop the ball, please just pick it up for me and do not make me feel like a failure. I do not know my limits, and I’m trying so hard to figure them out.

My brother’s death has hit me in a different way than my dad. My dad was involved in my day to day life. My brother was not. So, in that aspect, a lot of my issues have to do with the things my dad did for me that I have to figure out without him. With Matthew, I am able to do my daily duties without the need for him. But I’m still not ok. I now have anxiety attacks almost every day. I get a panic feeling in my stomach when my phone rings. I worry about the other people in my life. What would I do if they died? They could. At any moment. How does everyone else not feel completely helpless about this? Now, logically, I know this is a silly thing to spend time worrying about. 99% of the time, things happen, and we’re ok. How many times do we say, “Whoa! That was close!” It makes me wonder how many times I’ve almost died, and just missed it. I know I cannot live my life with these lingering fears. We can’t dwell on death all the time. None of us would ever get anything done. It is just so prominent in my life right now.

One last thing I would like anyone reading this to do. Just stop. Feel the air around you. Look at your world. Notice the colors, feel the temperature, take a deep breathe, and let yourself just exist for a second. Watch your loved ones move around. Notice their quirks. Memorize their facial expressions. Because you never know when “That was close!” will turn into, “I can’t believe they’re gone.”

I’ll Get to That Later

I am a career procrastinator. It comes so naturally, I can do it without even trying. A talent really.

Now let me clarify. I’m not lazy (though I do quite enjoy laying around all day in my sweats finishing off cold pizza from the night before). I procrastinate. While some may argue they are the same (or go hand in hand) I do not believe it to be true.

“Well Bethy! Enlighten us on the difference between, and please elaborate on how you have come to such a conclusion!”

If you insist!

Sundays are my only day off. (While I also do not work Mondays, I refuse to call it my day off because I have to take children to school. Any day you have to set an alarm and have scheduled tasks is NOT a day off. I digress.) Having only one day to be at home to do chores, organize paperwork, work my budget, etc, usually ends the same way. 9:00pm I’m frantically trying to get all that stuff done I wanted to do and didn’t.

So what do I do all day? Well, depends on what I WANTED to get done. Yesterday, I wanted to clean the kitchen. That’s all. That was my big chore. So what did I do? I called to different honeymoon destinations to get quotes. I cleaned the living room. I shaved my legs. I started a Pinterest account. I organized some wedding stuff. I cut my kids fingernails. I cleaned the tub…..I definitely wasn’t lazy.

But there I was. Almost bedtime and I hadn’t even started the kitchen. So I geared myself up, cleaned out the fridge, cleaned off the table, cleaned the floor, organized the mail….and I realized, I was actually procrastinating within my already procrastinated chore. The whole reason I wanted to do the kitchen, was the dishes. (I told you I’m a natural)

So, there they sit. Still not done. Why do I do this to myself? Wouldn’t it be easier to just get it over with? Where does one learn to procrastinate?  Whenever we have these moments we start asking these questions, we must have a movie style flashback to our childhood or teenage years. So, join me for my flashback!

It was the fall of 1999. I had chosen a book for English called The Poisonwood Bible to read. Of course, I put this off until the day before it was due. After school, I cracked that book open for the first time. Oh. Shit. I was hoping the thickness was due to large font. But, I am Beth! I’ll get it done. So I spent the entire night reading. I don’t mean until bedtime. I mean the ENTIRE night. By 7:00am I finally finished. English was right after lunch. So I spent all morning doing my note cards for the book (very cleverly using different pens and dating different dates since this was supposed to be done over a period of time).

English came. I handed in my note cards, and wrote my paper. Phew! I did it! Then, I cried out of sheer exhaustion.

So if this were a movie flashback, what would you learn about the character? Well, it would show how well she worked under pressure. I thrived under stress. To the point I honestly feel I was self sabotaging to put myself into those high stress situations. My best work always came from intense, last minute, hurried circumstances. My focus was dead on. Nothing could pull me from my task. And for someone with ADHD, this felt amazing.

So where does that leave me now? Have I lost my pazzaz? My flair for flourishing when the heat is on?? Yes. I have. It’s called getting old.

I cannot block out the world or pull all nighters. I have children and work. We all know life is a growing experience. And this is one area I never quite grew out of, or adjusted for adult life. I would just get tired, and quit. I have spent the last couple years feeling as if I’m in a constant state of defeat.

So my next adventure begins. I will now try to find the adult way of positive procrastination. How to channel this aspect of my nature into something beneficial, because all it’s doing now is giving me (and my tired, rickety body) anxiety. I’m sure there’s a way! I’m still the master of procrastination, for goodness sake, I just spent 30 min writing this post instead of making dinner. I just need to figure out what to do with it 🙂