12,239 Days Alive
I am a failure and I want to die most days. Perhaps I should try to reframe that?
I feel like a failure because it seems like I am perpetually screwing up and endlessly broke.
I want the difficulty to stop. I want to not be poor. I want to be able to surprise my loved ones with little tokens of affection. I want to be able to do something nice on my cruise this June. I want to not think no one wants me around.
I try so hard to do the right thing. I try to be nice, be considerate, and I still seem to endlessly mess up.
It’s so frustrating because I think everything should be going better, but I’m still struggling.
I have less than $200 a month after insurance, cell phone, and rent. And only four of my medications wipe out almost all of that.
I knew going in the pay cut was going to be difficult. I mean, two dollars less means over $4,000 less a year. And that is phenomenally frustrating.
I need to do better. Do more.
Get a side hustle, or two, or three.
Anything to break this damn cycle of perpetually stuck in near-poverty.