Proud or ashamed?

Poverty is my daily opponent and obstacle. I wake up with the fear of whether my car will break down, or if I will finally succumb to my present heath issues. I fear going to the doctor because that will cause more debt with no means to pay it. Not unlike the deer in the headlights, poverty is paralyzing and feels like a raw empty space that nothing will ever fill or heal. I can usually overcome it by prayer, Xanax, deep breathing or a combination of all 3, but there are days, due to other outside factors such as illness, shut off notices, cuts in unemployment benefits or an inability to purchase required prescriptions, that poverty is going to win. I crawl off to my bed, play computer games, read books, or watch movies. I only have 2 xanax left and I don’t have $60 for more. I could soon face eviction as well.
My darkest thoughts question why I am so easily disposed of? Am I so inconsequential as to be allowed to die homeless in the streets? Are my kids unworthy because their mother is unable to find work? I am not too proud. My chosen career is to take care of the elderly and infirmed. I am not too good for anything. I have sought employment as a maid, nanny, dog walker, and fast food. I wonder why I have been chosen to be deemed “useless” by society. I don’t drink, smoke and I’m celibate. The only place I frequent is church. I am kind to others and always offer to help anyone else in need. But, I cannot find work. And this has made me a leper, a parasite, welfare scum. And I don’t even know if I’ll get welfare. I wonder what the next step down the caste system is from that?

This 4th of July has me wondering what kind of country I live in. A country that doesn’t care for it’s own people but ass kisses every corporation around; The same companies that would rather ship all of the work to Mexico rather than pay a decent wage to working folks. God Bless America, but I’m afraid we’re reaping what we’ve sown. And I hope all of you bastards in Washington enjoy your f’ing holiday.