My constant companion for at least 15 years has been fear.
My ex husband was always unemployed in the winter. I would try to juggle making sure my kids had warm clothes, we had staples saved in the pantry and I went to Focus Hope in the winter for food as well as The Goodfellow's for Christmas presents. I feared the cold weather every year and tried my best to prepare.
I felt horrible fear in trying to keep a home for my children. My lack of skills and degree has kept me in precarious jobs and poverty.
My house became a trap when the mortgage amount was more than I could handle and it fell into disrepair. The roof was bad and leaked, causing black mold to grow. I had spent nights in fear of the sound of rain and to this day, rainfall sends me into panic mode. One night, exhausted after a long day at work, my ceiling fan began to leak right onto my bed. I had no choice but to move over to the corner of my bed and place a large storage container next to me to catch the water as I cried myself to sleep.
I moved into an apartment that leaked both in the living room and the bedroom closet. The landlord fixed the living room but not the closet. I kept all of my clothes in storage totes to protect them. The basement also leaked so everything had to be put up off of the floor.
Snowfall was another fear. My tires were often quite bald and being in a district that had no busing, it was the parents responsibility to drive their kids to school, regardless of the weather. I also drove anywhere from 50 to 100 miles round trip to work daily, so having a 1994 car with over 100000 miles on it was always a source of fear.
Having never made more than $24,000 a year the entire time I worked after my divorce, money was always in short supply and keeping the utilities on and food in the house wasn't an easy task. My children and I often had to rely on food stamps to survive and St. Vincent DePaul to keep our heat on. Making certain there is enough to pay the rent or mortgage has been yet another source of fear.
Now, I find myself, again unemployed. I am trying to find anything to do. I apply for jobs daily. If it weren't for my parents, I would be homeless right now and probably at a mission somewhere.
Fear has made me determined to get a degree, but as there is no guarantee of finding a job, I contend with a near obsession on living as cheaply as humanly possible. I fantasize about having a small cabin and living nearly as a survivalist in order to keep myself from being displaced. I entertain thoughts of growing my own food, canning,eating only the bare essentials to survive. I have lived several years without having lights on except when necessary, making due with eggs and potatoes for daily meals to save money,and keeping the heat on 66 and wearing sweaters and slippers or even a coat in the house.
Being poor has made a game of seeing how much fear I can tolerate. I guess I can tolerate quite a bit. It has become part of me now.
