Tag Archives: poor

A Good Week…


Well, this was a good week.  I’ve discovered a few more things about myself, some of which I have to face and get a handle on.  Most though, were good or,  at least, good enough.

I finally started walking outside as the weather has been cooperating and the ground has dried up nicely.  I think this is the main reason for my good moods.  shoesExercise is so important for one with bi polar as it helps to even out everything.  I found myself becoming bored at home for, really, the first time in over a year.  Thinking about my future brings a dose of reality.  Dr. G and I are talking more and more about finding work.  I keep imagining myself in a tiny bachelor apartment after Carly turns 18 (1 more year!).

She and I have been talking about her post secondary schooling.  She is eligible for so many scholarships and bursaries as well as student loans.  Hopefully she’ll be able to stay living with me when she goes to school but she’s not so sure what she wants to do yet.  Take a year off, move out with a friend or stay home and go to school.  So many decisions she has to make and it’s so great to have so many choices.

Now for a change of subject…I’ve always known I have an addictive personality.  I don’t mean people get addicted to me although, hmm.  Nah, that’s not what I smoking-PAmean.  It’s like when I used to smoke like a chimney until I quit in 1987.  I quit while I was pregnant with my boy too but started again right away.  Wow, I smoked a lot, more than 2 packs a day sometimes.  I loved everything about it and, as I said in other posts, I still dream I smoke almost every night.  Booze was a problem too at different times in my life. I pretty much stay away from it now.  I smoked weed in the latter part of high school and as a young adult until I was pregnant with my son in 1985 then never touched it again.  It was hard to quit so if people try to tell you there are no withdrawal symptoms from marijuana, they’re lying to you.

My ongoing battle has been with food since I turned about 20.  Food is always there.  One needs food to survive.  It’s starting to get bad again mostly because I live next to a 7-11 and they have everything that’s not so good for me.  I’m making super-bad decisions when it comes to food.  Chocolate is my weakness and diet Pepsi.  Chips for supper sometimes.  They’re cheap and filling.  The nights with chips are the nights my daughter eats at work so I don’t feel so guilty.  I never figured I was an emotional eater because when things are bad I just can’t eat.  It’s when things arefood pyramid going well I eat more and badly.  I guess that would qualify as emotional too.  I need strength to get through this.  I don’t want to gain weight after losing so much.  Dr. G is thinking it might be the new medication I’m taking at night to help me fall asleep.  Although I’m on a really low dose one of the side affects is weight gain.  I’ll be watching.

My mom’s cooking was pretty basic and good most of the time but sometimes kind of dangerous as she wasn’t too careful with health standards; leaving pots of soup or stews on the stove for days and serving them to us; meat left on the counter for way too long and some stuff just tasted bad you know? We all got the “Grand Beach Flu” at the same time and it was usually after her “Grand Beach Stew”.  I love her dearly but not the bugs that were in the flour that went into the gravy or the stuffing or the cakes or whatever.  I survived though and I’m sure it was why I was so skinny until I moved out.

I did so well with money this week.  It helped that the government sent out our quarterly GST refund so there was more money to work with.  I actually had food in the pantry and the fridge and still had money in my wallet by the time Child Tax Credit came in.  What a great feeling buying a bus pass and veggies and fruit for my girl who looks in the fridge and says, “Wow”.

My plan is to walk every day for at least 1/2 hour and increase it.  I need to invest in a good pair of runners as Carly and I are sharing mine right now (!).  I know.

She needs them for work and I need them for volunteering so one of us is using them all the time.  Hopefully at the end of the month I can get another pair for her.  My shoes are actually too big for her.  She’s a size smaller than me.

Shoes I should be getting...

Shoes I should be getting…

So the plan is to walk, eat better and get new shoes.  Those are pretty good goals for a week…

Shoes I want...

Shoes I want…

 

Trying Out The Soapbox


There was a very hurtful comment on Facebook the other day and this would have been from one of my “friends” since those are the only posts I see.  Then I heard another, similar one from someone I know who probably didn’t realize the message I was going to get.  I think the aim might have been to give me a “kick in the ass”?  I am feeling rather on the defensive side so this will come out sounding like it.  I apologize in advance but only for sounding defensive, not for what I want to say.  I’m not one to give my opinion as I usually fear it would be “wrong” but I’m learning in many cases, there is no such thing.

Many readers know that I’ve been on medical disability (part of the Employment and Income Assistance Program) through the provincial government for the last year for bi polar disorder that has been going up and down with its hold on me over the course of several years. This time it’s so I don’t rush back into working sooner than I should as I had done in the past.  I get a very, very modest income that is supposed to cover my rent, utilities and food.  Luckily I’m also covered for my medications and I get bus tickets so I can get to my medical appointments.  I am so grateful for this income, you no idea.

I’m not “lazy” or trying to rip off the government.  I am truly not able to work and have spent the last year trying to get my life to make sense, to find the focus and strength to go on for my family so I can find my way back to some kind of work, earn money and a source of pride.  It takes so much effort just to write these words because it uses energy and organization I just don’t have yet (as a matter of fact I rewrote that last line 12 times).  I was telling my friend today about how I long for the days when I could open my mouth and out would come words and ideas filled with imagination and intelligence and people looked and listened to me with respect.  Most of what I get now are some strange looks from family and friends as I, yet again, try to convey information that proves to be false or terribly mixed up or I wonder if I’m spitting on them while I’m talking.

Yeah, I’m having a hoot spending the government’s money to live in poverty.  I don’t smoke, I don’t buy booze, I don’t do recreational drugs of any kind and I don’t have a car.  It’s been a real easy way to lose more weight; goodbye to 7 more pounds thanks to the meals of crackers or whatever was leftover from whatever I made Carly for the past several days while waiting for my child tax credit cheque.  None of it exactly nutritious, excuse me for that as well please.  But she was fed.  When the cheese gets mouldy and the milk goes sour and it’s still days away from that cheque, you make do.

I so much want to work again. No one would or could ever want to do this if one could help it.  No amount of budgeting or whatever it is people think it is that someone like me is supposed to do with “all that money” will stretch it any further than it can already go.  There are no extras.  Cough medicine when I was sick? It costs money. Toilet paper costs more than $10 for crying out loud! It’s a very good thing only one of us bleeds once a month now or I don’t know how that would work.soapbox

I challenge anyone to live on $30 a day (including rent, utilities, food and any miscellaneous payments you may have, in other words for everything) for an extended period of time and, hey, get back to me about how it goes.

What started all this besides the snide comments?  I wanted to give my daughter a great 17th birthday party.  It’s been such a tough year and she’s still doing amazing at school and gives me no cause for concern like most teenaged girls her age.  I had to drastically change our plans for her birthday because of our situation.    Oh, I know it might not be a big deal for most people if they do or birthday cakedon’t go to a nice restaurant for dinner.  This was something SHE asked for specially and she doesn’t ask for very much.  Ever.  I hated the look of disappointment on her face when I finally told her there wasn’t going to be any way I could take her now.  No matter how much planning or budgeting I do I can’t justify spending that kind of money.  It really means not eating for the rest of the month or no toilet paper or no to many things.  She, of course, being the darling daughter she is, took it fine, saying it was okay but I felt my heart break for her knowing what she wasn’t showing me.  I hope to do better by her for next year when she turns that magical 18!

So that’s enough about how poor I am.  It’s not just about me.  The Manitoba government just announced its budget for the coming year and is giving an increase to Social Assistance rent benefits of about $50 to $70 a month.  https://www.policyalternatives.ca/publications/commentary/manitoba-budget-leap-forward-poverty-reduction .  I think this is a step in the right direction and still nowhere near being close to reality in Manitoba’s housing crisis.

I hear a lot of people cry out that everyone on welfare should be drug tested.  Oh my god what a message.  The majority of people, and I’m included in that group, are doing the best they can in a, hopefully, temporary situation.  These include persons with disabilities which also include people with addictions, like it or not.  The funding for helping this unique group of persons is almost non-existent.  That circle needs to be broken.

I never, ever thought I would ever need to go to  welfare but I can tell you that if it wasn’t there, where would I be?  It wasn’t all that easy to get either.  You don’t just walk in the door and say you can’t work.  There’s criteria that blew me away and I was aghast I met them all.

So give people on Assistance, Welfare, or whatever it’s referred to where you live, a break for a little while.  No one likes being poor.  Everyone likes having support and their pride intact.  I know I do.

Be part of the solution and use your voice to make it better.  And talk louder when you do.

I’ll be listening.

Thanks.

The Silence


It was inevitable:  no pay bill = No TV For You.whitenoise

My apartment is so quiet.  I can hear the tinnitus in my ear, clicking away; my blood flowing; my heart beating and every sound from the upstairs suite are explosions.  They shower at least 4 times a day and vacuum at least 2.  It’s absolutely abnormal how many time they flush their toilet.  They stomp and yell and laugh and wrestle and I don’t think they have a TV either because no one is sitting still up there.  Oh and they drop a lot of things.  Big things.

My cat loves this opportunity to howl even more than she has in the past.  There’s nothing around to compete with her voice. I believe she’s trying to sing about all her life’s passions and journeys (she hasn’t had much so maybe she cries for the lack thereof).  She scrapes her nails all the way to the bottom of her litter box with more gusto than necessary.  I hear her scarfing down her cat food bowlfood, after I patiently watch and pet her every day, soothing her 3 month-long anxiety of eating alone.

It could be worse though.  She used to not want to poop alone.  This is a lot better.

By the second or third day I was almost mad by the silence and the noise.  I relied on that TV for, not only for the shows (OMG, The Voice starts soon!), it blocked out all the annoying sounds of everyday life.  noisy neighborsBut I miss Rachael Ray’s cooking!  Burger days!.  I covet her cookware. And I don’t care what anyone thinks, I need to see all the Friends episodes for the 12th time.  My soap opera is reduced to a cheap cut on YouTube where the mouths are not synched with the words and that makes me dizzy. If I squint a little, though, it helps. And Dr. Phil!  Carly and I were bonding over that show.  Sadly, I will never know if Property Virgins will ever have someone not lose their property virginity.

TV was also my main source for music.  I never could quite figure out how to piano-1.jpgupload music to my iPhone (or download or whatever).  I found a station on the internet that plays all kinds of genres though.  It’s such a relief to have beautiful music in my life again.

My eyes are blurry from reading and cross-eyed from playing games online.  I know soon I’ll regret having started the latter.  Already I can feel the cramping in my hand from the abnormal way I have to hold my phone to play.  I hate you Candy Crush.

I’m quite hard of hearing so this sensitivity to noise is pretty new to me.  People knock on my window (why do they DO that??) and it sounds like it’s coming from the bathroom.  Or the door.  Or right behind me!!  GAH!  I almost always scream a little.  I never answer the window (bring your frigging KEYS!).  Unfortunately, none of this means that my hearing has improved.  I still have difficulty understanding someone during a conversation unless they know to speak clearly with a slight Minnie Mouse tonality.

So once I catch up on the bills then I’ll have the TV back on.

I wonder if I’ll even want to?

Stupid Brain


Hello Brain! What the hell is up with this crap lately? Here I’ve been bragging about how great I’ve been doing and today nothing seems to be working on all circuits! stupid brainWake up! Focus! Be my best friend again!

I don’t understand what happened.  I feel exhausted; so tired I fall asleep in my chair.  Last night my body physically HURT.  I had headaches.  My neck and back were so stiff I could hardly move.  I think even the old ladies at the personal care home where I volunteer could have outrun me without even trying!  Today I was shaking so bad I had to use my arm to hold my other arm still so I could drink from a glass.  Eating with a fork or spoon was not happening either. This is a lovely side effect that hasn’t reared its ugly head in quite a while.  It’s quite embarrassing when I’m in public which, of course, I was.

There’s been a fog around me for a couple of days and I’m hoping it will only last a short time.  I know part of it has to do with my frustrations with finances and settlements with the ex that STILL hasn’t happened although that seems to finally be coming together.  I tried to do an Excel worksheet to keep track of what I pay and owe and when to pay everything but I ended up using my pen and paper and drawing columns and making a big mess and now there is no TV!  ARGH!!

My Dr. G and I talked on Wednesday.  Well, I talked and he listened.  The more I Dr Gtalked the more all the frustration came out: parenting a teen and an adult son, facing some of my social phobias, and the situation with food or lack there of. There were a whole lot of other things that came up that I didn’t expect.  My chest hurt after that session.

I just want to feel better again.  I know I will.

It looks like I’ll have to walk to my volunteer job (2.9 km or 36 min walk according to Google Maps) all next week.  Hopefully the wind chills will be decent. Weird how Social Services works…they encouraged me to volunteer but won’t give me bus fare to get there!

Anyhow, this is a venting post (boo hoo poor me) and there is nothing anyone sorrycan do about anything although a lovely friend is going to come over and look through my freezer and we will cook some things I hope the girl will like.

So I’ll post again next week and I’m sure I’ll be right back to my sunny self again.  Along with having Viking calves from all the walking. And I’ll write shorter sentences.

viking calvesPeace and love.

A Day In My Life (Part One)


What a day this was (Friday).  It went kind of all over the place and it made me stop and think, and sometimes in places where I shouldn’t have stopped at all.

I started my new volunteer job this morning!  That was pretty great.  I had to get up early, which was tough because I’m into the last 200 pages of Stephen King’s almost 1200 pages of “The Stand” and it’s really hard to put down.  So after reading for over and hour and a half, until 3:00 AM, I determinedly set my alarm for 8:00 AM, which, by the way, is the earliest I’ve been up for a long time.

Well morning came and the alarm went off when it was supposed to.  I should hair productsknow better than to try to reason with a sleepy brain at 8:00 AM; it doesn’t work.  I reset my alarm for 8:30, thinking my bus surely won’t come until 9:30 and I can just put more hair products in my hair in lieu of a shower.

So, like a good little soldier, up I got at 8:30 and checked the bus times again.  Nope.  The time in my head was wishful thinking,  I had 25 minutes to eat and get ready and take my morning meds then run the 2 blocks to the bus stop.  Mad panic ensued.  lucky2My cat watched me in wonder while looking pointedly at her full food dish.  She likes to be petted while she eats.  It’s an anxiety thing.

It was the first beautiful morning in ages.  -1C and with the wind chill it only felt like -8.  So I figured I would not have to dress in so many heavy layers of clothes this time.

The bus was late.  A LOT late was that bus.  I even ran half of the 2 blocks to catch it on time.  Well, I think of it as running. It sure felt like running.  The wind seemed to be picking up as well.

I made it to the hospital where I volunteer and got ready to have coffee time with the “girls” for the first time.  Well, there were a couple of guys there too.  I love working with the elderly.  They were all smiles this day, even the grumpy ones apparently.  Tarts for tea today.

We spent the next hour and a half having coffee and tea and goodies while tea partyanother volunteer told jokes she found on the internet and yet another brought out his guitar and sang some songs.  I tell you, these people know how to chair dance!  The volunteer promised to play again next week.  Then it was time to clean up and go home.

I figured it was such a nice day I would wait at the bus stop instead of staying inside for 10 minutes.  Funny thing…was that wind getting colder?  It was definitely colder.  And stronger. And it was snowing really hard.

I made it home and had a nap.  Nice morning all around.

After the nap the ex brought me some of the child support which I planned to use almost all for groceries.  So now the bus to Wal-Mart.  The weather was worse than before.  It was freezing cold.  My fingers and my nose were numb in 2 minutes.  And the bus was 11 minutes late.  Then 13.  I guess it was travelling backwards.

A cold walk to the bank.  I climbed over snowdrifts up to my knees in some snow driftsplaces.  I fell twice.  I ran in front of traffic not wanting to stand on a windy corner any longer than I had to.  Then an even colder walk to Wal-Mart.  The sidewalks had been plowed though.  I wish there were heated bus shacks along the way.  This is Winnipeg.  There should be.

But once I got there I happily shopped, not realizing the money I had been really not that much.  shoppingTo me it seemed like a fortune but once I got to the cashier I was getting that feeling in the pit of my stomach that I made a  big mistake.  There were so many items on the belt I realized there was no way I could cover them all.  The cashier would tell me what amount we were up to and I was prioritizing items desperately.  Yes we needed meat.  Yes we needed milk and eggs and cheese and peanut butter.  Yes we needed veggies and bread.  I kept taking things out of bags and the patient cashier would take them off the bill.  I was red in the face and feeling rather faint with embarrassment.  I was so close to tears.  I apologized to the woman behind me for taking so long.  She was fine with it although the man behind her swore at me and went to another line.

Finally the tally came up with more than half of what I wanted to buy still sitting apart from my payitforwardbagged items.  I was paying, still on the verge of crying and holding it in nicely when I felt a hand on my shoulder.  I turned to see the woman who was behind me in line.  She leaned in close and whispered that she hoped I wouldn’t be offended but she wanted to buy me some of the items I couldn’t get.  Then there were tears on my face and told her how grateful I would be and promised to pay it forward.  She spent $16 so my girl and I could have toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner as well as a few other things.

I was embarrassed but so blown away by her kindness.  I know I’ve done that for strangers, mostly just a dollar or two, and more back when I was working.  The saying “What goes around, comes around” is perfectly true.  I wish for that woman to have the best year of her life.  The things she bought me aren’t so kindnessimportant but her actions touched me.  She is a truly kind and unselfish person.

I did get all the important items though.  I expect more money this coming week so I’ll be more rational when I shop then.

I made it through the day.  Again, as I usually say, I always do.  🙂

PS.  I know the title of this post says Part One.  I’m not sure if I can finish part two.  I wanted to have it for Mental Health Awareness Day on January 28 and it’s hard to write.  I’m digging deeper into my psyche lately and finding things that I want to ignore.  Hopefully I can put some order to it and share it with readers.  I might be a little late though.

Peace and love.

Switching Bottles


Well, my friend Jam is back in town, and ready to party.  The last time I partied with her was here and that was a time I will never forget.  I did write it all down so that helps with the not-forgetting part.  Which is why I’m doing it this time too.  Its great catching up with old friends.

Of course some things never change.  For one thing, just like last time, we were having a snow storm and I was trudging up the street with snow that, in some wineplaces, was up to my knees .  I had a half a bottle of my son’s homemade wine in an insulated water bottle and some 7-up to tame it just a bit.  It is a tad wicked.  No stuffed mushrooms though, just a box of Crunch and Munch this time.

I put on makeup before I left, although I don’t know why.  I guess because I haven’t had a picture taken of me in months, not even at selfie jan 2014Christmas, which is fine by me, let me tell ya.  Tonight, though, there are lots of pictures of me that should just be burned.  I can laugh at them though as long as I don’t acknowledge it’s me in the pictures.  Ha.   I did take one selfie that was pretty good.  I was going for a one-chin look and think I did it.  I did have to reach up quite far with the camera to get the effect I wanted. What do you think?  I’m dreading when Jan gets back home and will upload a whole bunch on Facebook.

So I made it to the door and didn’t fall in a snow bank.  There they were, the girls from the block and Sue(p).  God I love them.  We had snacks, drank some wine and remembered the great times we had.  We also realized that things aren’t like they used to be.  We are all so laid back (old) although it could be because of the cold it really limits what one can do.  We weren’t about to get on a bus and go to a restaurant and spend lots of money on food and booze then hop on another bus and yell things at Shelly with the sole purpose of embarrassing her (“Shelly has a boooyfriieeennd!!!”) while on our way to the casino.  Shelly was so easily embarrassed back then, now she just gives it right back at us AND she says really bad words more often.  That’s fun too but not nearly.  Watching and hearing her apologize profusely to whoever she had to sit with on that bus would make everything just get out of control.

Life was so different then.

Memories of a stinky cab ride

Memories of a stinky cab ride

So what did we do?  I laughed so hard the back of my skull hurt so bad I had to make myself stop.  I swear I was having a stroke or my brain was just trying to leak out the back way.  We started posing for pictures but without our Sue as she left a little early.  She did drink a lot of wine before I got there.

Invaded by the teens.

Invaded by the teens.

Shelly and Jan’s kids were there as well as some miscellaneous others that Shelly seems to adopt.  Mine stayed home. They were mostly pushing cars out of the snow outside the house.  A lot of snow and you’d think people would know better.  These kids were so loud I couldn’t believe it but what great human beings.  Shelly would screech their names, demanding they come upstairs and help the neighbours get out of the driveway AGAIN and up they would come.  Except the girls.  They put on fashion shows for us and made us ache for our youth.

My place is so quiet.

That feeling of friendship, which I felt was missing from my life for so long, was as if it never left my heart.  How easy it is to relate to these women, and to laugh and tell stories.

The best story?  Sue was woken up one night by a stranger, who was obviously drunk and in her room looking for “Jordan”.  She kept asking him what the hell he was doing there.  She got out of bed, was in her nightgown (thank goodness) and followed him out to her kitchen.  (Who are you??) There she noticed he had (Who the hell is Jordan???) helped himself to some snacks and tried to open her Crown Royal bottle (which is so stuck but I bet I could open it).  All the while he kept asking her where Jordan was. (How did you get in here??)  He finally realized that he was in the wrong house (Sue has no idea how he got in there or who he was or who the heck was Jordan) and was going to leave.  He was heading for the door and Sue was worried that he didn’t have a jacket but he left anyway.  She found the jacket (he had set up a nice little bed on her couch). She called 911 and told them about the guy  (that poor, poor man is out there without his jacket.  I’m so WORRIED!) and how worried she was about him and could they please come by to get his jacket so he doesn’t freeze to death.  NOTHING about the break and enter.  Our Sue was just worried about the hoodlum’s welfare.  We were all imagining if it were us and we would not be so calm.  I would have been beating the guy over the head and chasing him from my place, screaming at him to get out.  Jan figured she would have stood there and screamed and panicked too.

Legs up and duck face for Shelly.  OMG we are so HOT

Legs up and duck face for Shelly. OMG we are so HOT

We talked about and remembered some recent firefighter stories,  the crazy diet stories, the backyard fire pit stories, some ex-husband stories (mostly good ones that were hilarious and not bashing them too much), the time when Shelly’s cat wasn’t as, umm, fluffy as she is now.  Hell, we were less fluffy back then too. The times when Shelly and Jan would be on the bus with their kids, someone always seemed to scream at them that they were lesbians.   Which led to some dating stories and questions.  Lots and lots of questions.  But not about lesbians.

It was a good way to reconnect with them.  They are my friends.  They were never gone.  I plan on keeping it up but when the weather gets warmer.  I’ll have 2 grandbabies by then and will be wanting to go show off visiting.  I hope Jan will be able to come back again soon.

Now I have to go to Urban Dictionary and look up what my name means.  Sue’s started off nice but ended up with nasty words.

I’m going to try to post every week again.  That’s my goal so hopefully I’ll see you next week!

Housework


Wow, It’s been a while again. I guess I’ve been all discombobulated. Life has sure had its ups and downs in the last few months. Let’s see…

  • I’ve moved and survived.
  • I’ve discovered music on my TV and that is giving me a lot of joy. I never did figure out how to get music on my iPhone.
  • I lost 30 pounds without even trying!! That would be because of no more Lithium.
  • My cat is now home with us in the new place and that puts me over the moon…even though she had has some adjustment issues. I look out where I’m stepping now. cat-pukingNothing like warm (or cold) cat puke on the bottom of my foot when I’m trying not to wake up too much when I have to go pee in the middle of the night.  Or the yowling.  She especially likes to yowl in the bathroom.  At 3 am.  The echo I guess?

I had such a bad time before the move. I honestly didn’t know if I could make it. My daughter was at her wit’s end.  Neither of my kids Bipolar-disorder-treatmentreally understand what’s going one with my illness.  So they get impatient. They figure I’m lazy and probably even stupid.  I’ve done what I can to get them to get it.  I will keep trying I guess.

In past posts I’ve written about my mom and how her presence seems to be everywhere. Well, the months and weeks leading up to this move I know she was trying to help. I would babble to her while I was awake and in my dreams.  I was a basket case as only I can be. I was driving everyone nuts with my fears and tears and rants and being generally incapable of coping. Coping skills? What the fuck are those? I had no money (again), no food (again), bills piling up (uh huh again), welfare not paying me what they were supposed to. I couldn’t afford bus tickets or fare so I was even more isolated than ever before.

So anyway, my daughter and I were going through yet another box of stuff that she was urging me to purge and to which I would resist. “It was Gramma’s,” I would cry. She was relentless on lots of stuff but that always got to her so I used it a lot. When we came to some pictures of she and her Gramma we would both cry. Then, in an old purse she was MAKING me get rid of, there they were.  The crystals.

stonesOf course there is a reason why I bring this up.  After my mom died, like pretty much right after and when I went back to work, a volunteer came to my office telling me she was moving in the next few days to London, England to marry her long time lover.  Same-sex marriage wasn’t legal in Canada yet.  I was glad for her of course.  We had gotten rather close the last few months before my mom died.  She always knew things.  She was very spiritual as well as a Wiccan.  She taught me a lot and gave me peace of mind.

That day she came in, she saw the sadness in my eyes that no professionalism could hide.  (Who was I kidding anyway?  Professional? Me?)  She told me about leaving and I told her I knew it was coming and I was so happy for her.  We hugged for a long time in my office.  We didn’t cry though.  She said she wanted to pull some of the sadness from me and give me some of her joy. As she moved away she reached into her bag and pulled out a little baggie with stones in it.  Gorgeous stones: amethyst for my mom, rose quartz for her and the blue quartz for me.  Spiritually aligned.  A beautiful gift.

Then I cried.

I hadn’t been able to find these particular crystals for a long time until I found ???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????them in the old purse. My heart flipped in my chest when my eyes found them and my fingers touched the little bag.  I whispered “Mom” and Carly looked at me like I was, once again nuts.  She just rolled her eyes until I explained it to her.

I think her head must hurt from doing that all the time.

It was like everything changed when I got up the next morning.  The hopelessness had lessened so much I could call my worker at welfare and demand the bus tickets I needed to get to doctor’s appointments.  I could purge the things that weighed me down in that apartment.  Our new apartment is rather cozy so of course I had to give up things.  I didn’t mind so much anymore.  My daughter even said “Mom, look at you” as I zinged crap into garbage bags and hauled them to the garbage bin.  I purged even more when we were unpacking.  I arranged movers and COMMUNICATED with professionals.

Suddenly things were just working out.  We looked at a great apartment for a great price and the manager liked us so much he wanted to move us to the top of the list.  It turned out he couldn’t do that and had to take the first tenants that applied.  He did have another place, though, that we could have first crack at.  He went to bat for us to make sure we got it.  He made sure everything was ready for when we moved in.  He was wonderful.   Welfare was paying for movers so that was great.  Like I said there wasn’t much to complain about at all.

Oh and I will be a Gramma again! (No NOT Carly)

Of course I am not miraculously better.  I am better though.  I’m still more isolated than before we moved but, for some reason, welfare sent me $150.  So I bought a bus pass for the next week.  I can get to the dentist to have my broken tooth looked at, see my psychiatrist (missed the last appointment because I hadn’t called for bus tickets, doh!).  And get some food!  After that I don’t mind not going out in the bloody cold.

Part time work may be in my near future as my wonderful sister figured out a great job that might just work for me and it sounds like one I would love to do.

Things are more peaceful in my head. There’s more purpose to my days whether I’m selling my jewelry on Facebook (Carly needed tampons) or actually doing the dishes instead of letting them pile up.

My crystals are in my purse again.

I am getting things done.