Archive for fundraising

Share, Give, Show Some Love…Friday Feelings

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression, Friday Thoughts with tags , , , , , , , , on April 12, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I set it up so Spook and I can receive direct donations from paypal without a fundraiser page. $5, a social media share, anything helps and we care grateful. In a way it’s even more helpful because of time constraints involved in fundraiser fund transfer. Any money we get can be moved to my debit card and then I can get a money order to pay for stuff. And yes, I am willing to send receipts because I’m just trying to be a good mom and keep my kid warm and sheltered.
Below you will find my unexpected expense of $102 to buy a sticker for my car.

$71 and change for water bill by the 20th to avoid the $18 late fee.

A second $40-plus dollar payment on car insurance to stay road legal.

I am also offering proof of how hard I have been looking for work, as well as the disconnect notice for our power and heat. If you wish not to donate directly, I am fine with anyone wanting to make a direct payment to the utility companies. I am being transparent as I can be without being accused of public nudity.


And please, please, please, read further before you go to the pat answer of ‘you must not budget well.’ Someone else’s actions put us in this position and I am trying to take responsibility and rise above it all and do my best.

Budgeting is not a foreign concept to me.
I get $832 a month.
Rent is $400.
Heat and power, during summer, around $200
Car insurance $50
water bill $70
$25 phone time and data (and I use it as rarely as possible to bank time and data up)
Then I have to get gas in the car since we have an 18 mile trip to town every time we go, buy food, pet supplies, household stuff like toilet paper and laundry soap and this month I had to put a $100 renewal sticker on my car.

When a non custodial parent abruptly decides to quit/get fired from jobs and stops paying for months and does it repeatedly…his actions alone put us $4000 behind. And that is something you can’t predict and the law does not force these parents to inform the custodial parent when they lose income and can’t pay so…often we are surprised when we check our bank balance and suddenly the money we counted on isn’t there.

And on a final note, while I am on my indignant soap box probably offending more people than I have already this week…

I have put in over 60 job applications this week.
I got one precorded virtual interview and another in person one on Monday but an old blip on my history could make that a non event.
I am trying and I can’t force anyone to hire me.

Parents really gotta stop programming kids to ‘just do your best’ because when you become an adult you quickly learn your best doesn’t pay the bills, earn you respect, or impress potential employers.

I have a car, we have food, we are clothed…I ask for nothing but what we do not have and live in such a small rural area we have no access to programs to help.

Please think about giving. Simply clicking the share button and passing it on can make a huge difference for me and Spook.

I’d also appreciate it, even if you don’t like me, if some kind soul would send my daughter an Easter basket with a couple of cheapo toys and some candy. It breaks my heart to not even have $4 to buy plastic eggs and candy so we can maintain our traditional morning egg hunt. Please help her.

And if you read all of this, spork of fortitude for you.

Any further questions my email is



Three Minutes and Eighteen Seconds From Morgue- Please Take The Time

Posted in holidays with tags , , , , , on November 27, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms


I created a list on Amazon that is easier to comprehend and I am sure better deals can be found elsewhere but this is just ‘we could use this’ or ‘this would be a nice treat’. Except for pet supplies and toilet paper, we really NEED that stuff.

Our page.

A share, reblog, whatever you can do is appreciated.


Why I Want To Use You…For Your Social Network Connections

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , , , , , on March 16, 2016 by morgueticiaatoms

It occurred to me that I am currently having my third fundraiser in less than a year. Mind you, the first was in an effort to save our cat Abby (she passed, unfortunately.) The second campaign was after my mom’s house had a fire.

This time, because the campaign is about me and my needs, I feel a bit like a monster. Me, me, me, all about me. Help me, me me. The guilt sucks even when my intentions are necessary and pure. I’m the chick who could be on fire and I’d be too stubborn to ask a bystander to ya know, put it out for me. So this fundraising, asking for things…

It’s necessary but so many necessary things in life plain suck.

The reason I post my fundraisers to my blog isn’t because I think followers are wealthy. In fact, I know most of us are in the same broke ass boat because our brains betray us and many of us either can’t work consistently, can’t work at all, or can’t make enough to make ends meet. I am aware of this, I have no hard feelings, expect no apologies. It is what it is.

What so many of you DOhave that I do not are Facebook and Twitter accounts, which helps spread the word around and that can make all the difference.

“Okay, Morgueticia. If it’s okay for us to use our connections, why can’t you just get your own account and friends and followers?”

I tell few people the true story of that whole thing. It’s been 8 years and I still can’t quite force myself passed it. Call me a wuss, whatever. I will, however, tell the story so maybe *some* can understand. It’s not that I am “too good” for social media. It isn’t misanthropy or laziness.

Fact is, back 9n 2008 I met someone on line and fell head over heels. Like, sooo far gone. THe brain was just…delicious. All the big words used, the knowledge of cheesy 80’s music, the sarcastic humor that tickled ten funny bones…

Several weeks in “he” turned out to be a “she” or at least lived as a she.

I am all for accepting people as they are. But I fell for one thing and the thing that was “real” turned out to be quite the opposite of deep and insightful and intelligent. I was shell shocked, felt hoodwinked, but…I still extended an offer of strictly friendship cos it’s not fair to anyone if only one person is content.

Unfortunately the friendship wasn’t enough for this person and the more I talked to their “true self” the more I realize…it’s not a gender thing, at all. It’s a connection thing. It simply wasn’t there as the differences between who they presented as turned out to be so very different from who they saw as their true self.

Suffice it to say…I was accused of being rejecting, unaccepting, et all. This after weeks of having them mock my bipolar and me taking meds and me discussing “banal” things like my family and…You get the picture. It ended very badly, even resulting in this person I still cared for even if only as a beloved friend calling me a wellfare freak for being on disability.

That entire thing fucked my head up. Soon after, I shut down all social accounts, especially the one that lead me to the roommate who introduced me to the donor. Eight years and wordpress is the most I’ve done, swapping comments and emails.

I cannot risk being so hurt again. That internet person hurt me far more than the men I married. If wanting what was presented as fact makes me a rejection bitch, so be it. I’m not gonna order a Porsche then drive off in a Yugo. You present as this, you damn well be just that.

And so there you have it…That’s why I don’t do social media. I guess I was that traumatized or some shit. I can’t put myself out there like that again. Not now,maybe not ever again.

So when I post here about the fundraising campaign…I know we’re all broke. But if even twenty followers who visit my blog a week were to pass on the fundraiser link on social media…Do you see where I am going with that? Word of mouth can be a wonderful thing.

And yeah, I feel crappy for asking. I should just get a job (yeah, that’s my next post, looking for an employer who has “moody” as required skill), I should do this, that. Hell, if anyone out there has a job I can do from home and work around my mental issues…Bring it. I don’t mind work. As long as it doesn’t result in me having (another) nervous breakdown.

This is my reality, in case you’re wondering if I am some spoiled brat living in luxury and whining for donations.

Digital Camera

my kid and our current dented rust bucket that dies at every stop sign

Digital Camera

This is our castle…or what someone a show the other day called, “tornadoes should be God’s Way of being told to stop being trailer parks.”

(That missing piece of siding there is where I crawled under to get to the cat whose babies all died. I haven’t had the heart to put it back up.)

So…this is my story. THis is my reality. If you use social media…Help out a single mom by spreading the link around.


And because you (hopefully) made it this far through my psychologically wounded tale…Something funny. Unless swearing squirrels offend you, then you probably won’t find it funny.